Harry had always known that he was a freak. Uncle Vernon had enforced that quite enough. But this, this would have to be the icing on the cake.

Stepping closer, Harry turned sideways, looking at the copper brown wings that protruded from his back. They looked like a bird's wing, sort of like a golden eagle's, something that Harry only knew from the bird book he had managed to sneak from the school's library.

He folded them, testing their flexibility, then stretched them out to their full span. They folded against the walls of the bathroom. He touched them, running his hand down the outer feathers. They were soft.

As if burned, he quickly retreated his hand.

This was bad. This was very bad. If Uncle Vernon saw, he would be punished severely. It was one thing to make things happen unexpectedly, but it was something else entirely to be a mutant freak.

He tucked them close to his back, as tight as he could without it being painful. He put his shirt on and made sure the fabric covered his wings completely. There was a small lump near his shoulder blades, but it would have to do.

Quietly, as to not disturb the sleeping occupants in the next room, he tiptoed to his cupboard. He undid the latch, and folded himself into the small space. Huddled in the corner, he shut his eyes.

~'~

The next morning was eventful to say the least. Letters addressed to him had arrived in the hundreds, some coming from the mail slot and others from the fireplace. One stuck itself through the crack in the kitchen window.

Finally, Uncle Vernon had enough. He ushered them all to the car and went to hotel after hotel. The letters seemed to follow them wherever they went, the addresses changing to where they were. By the end of the day, Harry had found himself on the dirty floor of a house on the rocks in the middle of raging waters, a large storm sloshing the waves over the rocks. Dudley was snoring on the couch, one arm over the side. Scowling and putting a raggedy jacket over his head to block the sound, Harry continued doodling in the dust.

He contemplated letting his wings out, as they were starting to hurt. He listened for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, only hearing rhythmic snores coming from the other room. He took off his shirt, letting his wings unfurl. Oh, that was so much better.

He ripped holes in the thin shirt, right where his shoulder blades would be and put it back on. After a couple of tries, he stuck his wings through the holes he had created.

He double checked to make sure his aunt and uncle were still asleep then turned to look at Dudley's watch.

11:59. One more minute until he would be eleven. He counted down silently in his head.

5...

4...

3...

2...

1...

"Happy Birthday to me," he whispered. Exactly after he murmured that, a loud bang came from the wooden door.

Harry jumped back, and Dudley leaped from the couch to the far wall, completely awake.

Another loud bang and the door broke down. A large thing was standing in the doorway. It ducked down and came into the room.

Harry gasped.

The "thing" turned out to be a very large man whose face was mostly covered by a very scraggly beard. He had on a large dirty beige furry coat with way too many pockets. A necklace of dead chickens hung from his neck.

"'Arry Potter!" the man yelled. Harry shrunk back. "I'm looking for 'Arry Potter!"

Timidly, Harry raised his hand. "I'm Harry Potter."

The man looked down and to Harry's surprise, smiled. The man began to rummage in one of his large pockets, murmuring,"It' must be here somewhere."

Finally the man pulled his hand from his pocket, letter in hand. He handed the letter to Harry.

"The name's Rubeus Hagrid." the giant man introduced. "But you can call me Hagrid."

"Harry Potter," Harry stuck out his hand that wasn't holding the letter. Hagrid's hand enveloped nearly his entire forearm. Hagrid's face split into another wide grin as he looked at his back. "Blimey, 'Arry! Ya got ya wings! They look exactly like yer mum's!"

Too late did Harry realize that his wings were out in the full open and that Dudley could see them perfectly. He turned, scared, only to find Dudley staring at Hagrid, eyes wide and full of terror. He didn't even seem to notice Harry's wings.

"Uh, what? My mum's? You knew my mum?" he asked. "I thought they died in a car crash..."

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia chose that moment to come down the stairs.

"What is going on here?" Uncle Vernon bellowed. Upon seeing the giant man standing in the room, Aunt Petunia shrieked. "You can't take him away! You can't! I won't allow it!"

Uncle Vernon ran back to his room and returned with a shotgun. He promptly pointed it at Hagrid, the double barrels going right between his eyes.

Hagrid simply put out his hand and grasped the gun. He twisted the barrel into a knot and handed it back to the Dursleys.

"Listen 'ere, I wan' no more distractions, do ya hear me, Dursleys? Harry is gonna read 'is letter, and then he is going to come with me, whether you like it or not." he growled. His nose was inches from Vernon's. Uncle Vernon gulped and nodded.

"Alrig', 'Arry, you can read ya letter now." Harry looked down at the envelope.

"Hogwarts?" Harry questioned. "What's a Hogwarts?"

"'What's a Hogwarts" he says! Didja teach 'im nothin' about who 'e is?" Hagrid whirled around and sent an icy gaze to the Dursley's, who shrank back in terror.

"He didn't need to know! There is no point! He will not be going to that-to that school!" Aunt Petunia yelled.

"NO POINT?" Hagrid bellowed. Dudley shrieked and hid behind his father. ""Arry 'ere has been enrolled since the moment of 'is birth! The son of James and Lily Potter will most certainly be goin'!"

"DO NOT BRING MY SISTER INTO THI-" Hagrid pulled out a large pink umbrella and pointed at Petunia. With a snap, her mouth shut and she fell silent. She glared at Hagrid.

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth to say something, but Hagrid pointed his umbrella and he too fell silent. Hagrid whipped around towards Dudley.

"Do I need ta do you too?" Dudley shook his head rapidly. Hagrid turned back to Harry.

"Finish."

Slightly scared and slightly grateful for the silence, Harry turned back to his letter.

"To Harry Potter on the Hut on the Rocks from Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Harry looked at Hagrid in confusion. "Witchcraft and Wizardry? What does that mean? There's no such thing as magic."

Hagrid looked like he was about to explode. "NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC? NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC?" He turned back around to the Dursleys, who looked they were about to soil themselves. Judging by the smell and the dark spot in between his legs, it looked like Dudley already had. If looks could kill, the Dursleys would have been puddles of goo on the floor.

Hagrid pointed his umbrella in Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's face. "I swear ta Merlin' above, if this is some kinna joke..."

Harry tugged on Hagrid's coat. "Mr. Hagrid, its fine. You don't need to hurt them. They didn't mean it..."

"Like 'ell they 'id." Hagrid growled.

"Mr. Hagrid, please." Hagrid looked back at Harry, and seeing Harry's expression, his arm slowly lowered.

"I'm gonna take 'Arry with me. 'E will be goin' ta Hogwarts, and there's nuthin' you can to ta stop me. Now I'm gunna get rid of that silencin' spell on ya, and I don't want any smartmouthin' ya hear?" Hagrid swished his umbrella and the Dursleys' jaws fell open, finally able to speak again.

"We'll be leavin' in tha mornin', 'Arry. Yeh can finish ya letter then, when tis rain 'as cleared up a bit." With that, Hagrid took off his coat and tossed it over Harry. Harry struggled to pull it over his head, his wings fluttering madly. Hagrid lifted the coat off of him, looking sheepish.

"Sorry 'bout tha'." Hagrid apologized. "Was angry and didn't know mah own strength."

"S'fine." Harry's stomach growled loudly then, and he remembered he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday morning.

Hagrid snapped his fingers. "Tha' reminds me!" Hagrid reached into his front pocket of his pants. His hand seemed to go on forever. His arm disappeared and returned, holding a lopsided box.

"It's a cake. Fer yer birthday. May be a bit flat, but it should still be good." He opened the box. A blue cake with purple frosting reading "Happy Birthday Harry" was inside. The letters were lopsided and looked like childish scrawl and Harry figured Hagrid had made it.

He put some frosting on his finger and tasted it. It was the best cake in the universe in Harry's opinion. He gave Hagrid a smile.

"Thank you, Hagrid." Dudley suddenly appeared, pushing Harry away and began to grab handfuls of the cake, stuffing the pieces into his mouth.

Dudley jumped away with a yelp, hands grabbing his large bottom. In between his hands, Harry could see a curly pig's tail protruding from Dudley's behind.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON?" Vernon bellowed as Dudley ran to him bawling, large crocodile tears rolling down the chubby cheeks.

"Nuthin' he didn't deserve." Hagrid sneered, and Harry thought he looked rather terrifying right then. He was glad he wasn't on the other end of the umbrella.

"Ya better leave, Dursley. Go back to ya room an' leave 'Arry alone." Hagrid jabbed his umbrella at them and they scurried upstairs, Dudley still clutching his bottom.

Harry turned back to his cake, a small smile plastered on his face. The cake was delicious, despite the edges being a bit crunchy, and Harry ate until he thought he would burst.

"'Appy birthday, 'Arry" Hagrid whispered as Harry curled underneath the coat, his wings tucked close to his back. Before Harry could answer, he was asleep.

~'~

Hagrid woke him up early the next morning, before the Dursleys got up.The heavy storm had passed, leaving blue skies and white clouds. After eating some more cake for breakfast, Hagrid took Harry to the small boat that brought him and the Dursleys to the hut.

Hagrid rowed, sending salty spray into Harry's face. They landed sometime later, and Harry scrambled out of the boat, feeling slightly seasick.

They traveled a short way to London. They went through a pub called The Leaky Cauldron, where Hagrid hid him beneath his arm much to Harry's confusion, then Hagrid took him to an alley way. He tapped the brick wall three times and the wall began to fall into itself. A giant hole larger than Hagrid stood where the brick wall used to be. A town full of people was on the other side.

Hagrid motioned to the town.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley, 'Arry."

Harry had the shock of his life when he stepped into Diagon Ally. Multicolored wings were everywhere, ranging from snow white to the blackest wings like night. There were even a few purples and blues and greens thrown in there, which confused Harry to no end.

He turned to Hagrid, who had followed behind him from the brick wall.

"Everyone has wings!" he exclaimed.

Hagrid chuckled, a deep rumbling coming from his chest. "O' course. They're witches and wizards! Every magical folk has wings."

Hagrid began to walk towards and ice cream parlor. He ordered a banana split for Harry then sat at the farthest corner in the shadows, away from the other customers. Harry slid onto the other bench across form Hagrid.

Awkwardly, Harry drummed his fingers onto the table. The waiter came and set the ice cream in front of Harry. Harry was still shocked at the golden wings that protruded from the man's back and stared at them, his mouth hanging open slightly. The waiter gave him a funny look and left. Harry took a bite of his ice cream. This was better than Hagrid's cake! Almost.

He ate in awkward silence. Hagrid was looking down at the table, picking at a loose thread on his coat. Harry finished, and he chased syrup around the bowl with his spoon.

"So...you said you would explain?" Harry started lamely.

Hagrid looked up. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. Ya need to finish ya letter, first."

Harry pulled out the crumpled letter out of his pocket and smoothed it out.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Classm Grand Sorc, Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress.

There was a second page that read about the uniform and books and pets.

"Wait, I need to send my...owl?" Harry looked at Hagrid in confusion.

Hagrid jut waved the question away. "Already sent it. Dumbledore should have gotten it yesterday."

Still slightly confused, he went back to the letter. He re-read it. "I can have a pet?" he asked, a note of hope in his voice.

"We'll worry 'bout tha' later, 'Arry. First, we need to get ya supplies and wand." He pushed himself off of the bench, nearly making it flip. Harry held on as his teeth rattled.

Head spinning, Harry followed Hagrid.

"Where are we going first?" He asked, catching up. He had to jog to keep up with Hagrid's long stride.

"Before we get yer supplies, we gotta get some money."

"Where are we going to get money?"

"Gringotts."

What's Gringotts? Harry wondered. As they rounded a corner, he got his answer. A giant building, larger than any others in Diagon Alley, towered over them. A stone dragon that breathed fire was perched on top of the building.

It was even weirder inside. Small wrinkly creatures stood behind large counters. They looked rather terrifying with their bushy eyebrows and large hooked noses. Balances were filled with what looked like sparkling rubies and gold.

"What are those?" Harry whispered.

"Goblins. They're in charge of Gringotts and pr'tect the money."

Hagrid walked up to the front counter where the wrinkliest looking Goblin sat. His nametag read Griphook.

Griphook looked down his nose at Hagrid. "Yes?"

"We need access into the Potter vault, 687, and vault 713 for uh, you-know-what." Harry wanted to know what this 'you-know-what' item was, but he figured it would be rude to ask.

Hagrid held out a white envelope to Griphook who took it and scanned its contents with a scrutinizing gaze. He hopped down from his stool and came around. He barely came up to Hagrid's knees.

"Follow me." Griphook led them around to the back of the large room, the hustle and bustle noises slowly fading out as they walked. A rollercoaster looking ride with loops and sharp turns was behind the door, and Harry suddenly felt nervous. They were going to ride in that? It looked like it could barely fit him and Griphook, let alone him and Hagrid.

Griphook didn't look very pleased either, but hopped in anyway. Hagrid and Harry followed suit, squishing in beside the small Goblin. Harry's wings were painfully folded in. He let them unfold.

"Keep your wings inside the cart!" Griphook screeched. Harry quickly folded them back in.

"Stargrip above, help me face winged idiotic wizards." Griphook mumbled. Harry shot him a dark look.

Griphook pulled a lever and a sound of screeching tires filled his ears. In less than a second, they were speeding around the loops and curves. If Harry had felt sick on the boat, the cart was making him down rightnauseous. Hagrid looked green and Harry prayed to whoever above that he wouldn't upchuck on the ride.

They came to a sudden halt, sending Harry jerking forward. Hagrid grabbed his shirt collar to prevent him from flying out the car. His wings fluttered, helping him settle.

"Vault 713." Griphook called.

"Stay in the cart, Harry," Hagrid ordered. Harry felt a bit put out, but stayed where he was. Hagrid walked to a large plain black door. Griphook placed his hand on the door, and the floor began to rumble. The door slowly opened, splitting in half. It looked very dramatic. It didn't surprise Harry that the Goblins weren't past that.

Harry tried to maneuver around the cart to see what Hagrid was getting, but he couldn't see past Hagrid's bulk. Hagrid returned with a small package wrapped in brown paper tied with string. The bottom looked wet and it was dripping light pink water. Hagrid quickly stuffed it into one of his many pockets.

"Onto vault 678!" Griphook called. They were off again, and Harry wished he could just fly on his wings to his vault, but he figured Griphook would be really mad if he did that. He didn't want an angry Goblin on his hands. They looked scary enough as it was.

They stopped in front of a large vault, and Harry didn't nearly fall out this time. He stepped out with Hagrid and looked at the large door with awe. While vault 713 was just a plain black door, this door was nothing but plain.

Swirls and intricate designs covered the surface. Harry saw runes and phrases in Latin and in the middle there was a shield, which he assumed was the Potter crest. The shield was cut into fours. In the upper right and in the lower left there was a lion on two legs roaring. The other two where blank. Swords crossed in the middle and the points framed a knight helmet with large plumage.

Griphook placed his hand on the door and the floor rumbled again, but unlike last time where the door had just split in two, this door didn't. The swirls moved and disappeared, melting into the door. The designs pulsed and the Potter crest turned in a circle until Harry heard a click. The door slowly fell into the floor, and when the door was gone, Harry's jaw, already opened wide from the display, fell somewhere around his ankles at the image that greeted him.

Large piles of gold, copper and silver filled the vault floor. Harry saw large paintings and shelves full of golden goblets and other jewels on the wall. He even saw a sword with a green gem on the hilt buried somewhere in the back. This was all for him?

Hagrid handed him a bag. "Fill 'er up, 'Arry."

Harry wasted no time in grabbing handfuls of gold and the other currency and stuffing them into the large bag until the bag looked like it would burst. Hagrid helped. "The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle. Easy enough to remember, eh?" He climbed back into the cart and Hagrid stuffed himself in beside him. When they exited Gringotts, Harry wanted nothing more than to go to the nearest shop and buy everything they had.

Hagrid pushed him past the sweet shops that advertised Droobles Everlasting Gum and Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, whatever that was. They went to the book store called Flourish and Blotts and bought the required books. While Hagrid was helping the store manager look for them, Harry explored. There were many books piled high, nearly to the ceiling. Some books had weird sayings and were larger than Harry and he found one that had to be examined with a magnifying glass. There was one book that had nothing but the words "Cat", "Snake" "Badger" and "Owl" written in it over and over. He bought it out of sheer curiosity. He even found an Adventures of Sherlock Holmes book by Sir Author Conan Doyle, which Harry thought was a bit strange. He bought that as well.

They stopped next to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasion. Hagrid patted Harry on the shoulder. "You go in an' show 'er yer list. She'll get everythin' ready for ya. I'll be righ' back, 'Arry." Hagrid left in the opposite direction. Harry thought that was a bit strange.

He entered the shop and a bell rang overhead. A plump woman with curly grey hair and small grey wings bustled towards Harry, her dress filled with pins and sewing needles. A tape measure was hung around her neck.

"Hello, hello! Just sit right here, dearie, and I'll get to you in a moment. First year, yes? I know just what to get." She pushed him towards a sitting stool next to a girl with bushy brown hair. Her tawny wings were stretched out, measuring tapes flowing madly around them. She turned to him and smiled shyly.

"Hello," Harry said, climbing on the stool. "My name's Harry."

"I'm Hermione. Hermione Granger," the girl said. She held out her hand and Harry shook it. "I know who you are. You're Harry Potter, aren't you? I can tell by your scar." Harry's hand automatically went to his scar. "You are in Hogwarts: A History. Didn't you know that? I'm so excited for Hogwarts. I've already read all the course books. Which subjects do you think would be interesting? I like Potions and Transfiguration. Which House do you think you will be in? I like Ravenclaw, but I guess Gryffindor will be good, too," She talked a mile a minute and Harry had a hard time keeping up with her. Her wings fluttered a bit while she talked and the measuring tapes followed angrily.

"Uh, what?" His head was spinning.

The girl, Hermione, gave him a funny look. "You don't know anything, do you?" Harry shook his head.

Madam Malkin came with a deep green robe and placed it around Harry. She began to snip the fabric and make marks when needed. She went back to her desk, notepad in hand.

"Oh," Hermione sounded understanding. "I know how you feel. I didn't know anything either until I got my letter. I was raised by Muggles, you see."

"What's a Muggle?" Harry asked.

"They're non-magical folk," she explained. "They usually don't know anything about magic and they can't see our wings." So that explained why the Dursleys didn't comment on his wings."The only non-magical people that know of magic and can see our wings are Squibs. They are people born into a magical family but they don't inherit magic."

"Oh. Yeah, I was raised by Muggles as well. My aunt and uncle. My aunt was my mum's sister," he said. "Um, why am I in a book? This Hogwarts A whatever." Harry asked.

"You really don't know anything." Hermione's eyes seemed sad as she looked at him. Harry was really getting tired of it. "Did your family tell you about what happened to your parents?"

"They said they died in a car crash."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "They said what? That is completely untrue! They died by You-Know-Who!"

"Who? I have no idea who that is."

Hermione fidgeted. "Please don't make me say his name."

"Who is he?" Harry pushed. "Why did he kill my parents?"

Hermione bit her lip. She seemed to have an internal battle before turning back to Harry.

"You-Know-Who's real name is V-" she gulped and looked around to make sure nobody was listening. "His name is V-Voldemort," she whispered almost inaudibly.

"Voldemort?"

"SHHHH!" Hermione shushed him. "Don't say his name out loud!"

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Names have power. And You-Know-Who was a very powerful man. There are many rumors that he didn't survive that night at your house, but there are many more, mainly spread by his followers, Death Eaters, I think they're called, that say that he is still alive and is hunting for you."

Harry felt a shiver go down his back. "Those are just rumors, right? They're not real."

Hermione shrugged. The measuring tapes flew back to Madam Malkin and she tottered over.

"You're done, dear. Make sure your parents pay up front!" She took the robes off of Hermione. Hermione jumped off the stool.

"I'll talk to you later, Harry. I'm sure we'll see each other at school or on the train." Hermione walked to her parents who were standing near the entrance, watching the measuring tapes fly around with wide eyes.

"Wait! You're still not done explaining yet!" Harry called after her. Hermione just looked at him and mouthed 'later'. Harry slumped in his chair.

A tap on the glass window drew his attention. Hagrid was standing there holding a cage with a beautiful snowy white owl. "'Appy birthday, 'Arry!"

Harry paid for his robes and hurried outside where Hagrid stood waiting. He cooed at the bird and stuck his finger inside the cage. The owl rubbed it's head on his finger. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Tha shopkeeper tol' me it was a girl. You can name 'er whatever ya like."

Harry thought for a moment. "Hedwig," he decided. It seemed the only appropriate name for such a beautiful owl.

Hagrid covered her cage. "Where to next, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"The only thing left ta get is some potion supplies an' a wand," said Hagrid, checking Harry's list. They went to an apothecary and as soon as they stepped inside, Harry gagged and held his nose. It smelleddisgusting!

Random pickled things covered shelves and counters. Harry saw eyeballs looking at him from a jar and he swore they blinked. He wanted to get his stuff and get out of there as quick as he could.

Hagrid helped him pick out what he needed and Harry paid. His bag felt lighter but not much. There didn't seem to be much of a dent in the gold.

"Now just yer wand, 'Arry!" Harry grinned. This was the thing he was most excited for! He had a little skip in his step as he followed Hagrid into Ollivander's Wand Shop.

"Ah! Mr. Potter! What a pleasant surprise! Ten and a half inches, made from willow. Very swishy. That was your mother's wand, Mr. Potter. Your father's wand was eleven inches and mahogany. Very sturdy," said a man who Harry personally thought was crazy. Wild white hair stuck up in every which direction and his wings looked the same. Harry didn't even think the man could fly with such wings. His eyes were a piercing grey.

"Hagrid!" the man who Harry assumed was Ollivander said. "Sixteen inches and oak, correct? Very good for Transfiguration. I remember ever wand I ever make and sell," he explained to Harry.

Ollivander snapped his fingers. Like in Madam Malkin's, measuring tape flew around Harry, measuring his torso and wings and even between his nostrils.

"Which is your dominant hand?" Ollivander asked.

"Uh, my right," Harry replied as he watched the tape measure the size of his foot. Measuring tape wrapped around his right hand and then measured the length of his fingers.

Ollivander brought a box to Harry. "Try this one. Birch wood, twelve inches. Core of a dragon heartstring." Harry flicked it and a shelf full of wands tumbled to the ground. Ollivander snatched it from Harry. "Not that one."

He brought another. "Cherry wood, ten inches. Unicorn hair. Very swishy." Harry took it in his hand and instantly Ollivander took it back. "No, no," he mumbled.

"This one is similar to your grandfather's. It may work for you. Black willow, thirteen inches, mermaid hair. Very rigid." Harry took it and swished it in the air. The glass windows cracked and Ollivander plucked it away. "Not this one either. No worries, Harry, I'm sure we will find you a wand!" he said as he went deeper into the shelves of wands.

But Harry began to worry. He tried nearly every wand in the shop and he still hadn't found a wand that would take him. What if he couldn't find a wand and Ollivander kicked him out and said that he wasn't a real wizard? What would he do if he had to go back to the sneering taunts of the Dursleys?

"This would be very interesting. Yes, very interesting indeed," Ollivander murmured. He walked up to Harry with a wand incased in a velvet lined box.

"Every time a person comes and gets their wand, I take a feather from their wings. I use these feathers to make special wands. Very rarely does a Feather Wand choose a wizard. In fact, some of the wands you tried were Feather Wands from past customers. This is a rather new wand, only around twenty years old. I made it from the feather of a very special girl. Try this one. Holly, twelve inches, Witch feather."

Harry grasped the wand and instantly a warmth spread through him. A small gust wind blew through the shop, ruffling his feathers and hair. The cracked windows mended back together and the fallen wand boxes went back on the shelf. He felt as if the sun was shining down on him. He smiled. He knew this was his wand.

He swished the wand through the air and red and green sparks flew from his wand. "I like this one."

Ollivander was looking at Harry thoughtfully. "Interesting. Very Interesting."

Harry looked at Ollivander. "What's interesting, sir?"

Ollivander cleared his throat. "That was a Feather Wand, as you may well have known. The feather in this core belonged to someone who had the same wings as you. That person, Mr. Potter, was your mother. She donated this feather the first time she stepped through those doors. I knew it would be a special wand, just from the magic that pulsed through that single feather. You are very lucky, Mr. Potter. Not many get to have their parent's feather as their wand!"

Harry looked down at his wand in silent awe. This belonged to his mother? He felt tears fill his eyes and he blinked them away. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander."

"There's no need to thank me, Mr. Potter. It's the wand that chooses the wizard, not the other way around."

Harry paid the crazy looking man, giving him a feather from his right wing, and left, still clutching his wand in a tight grip. There was no way he was going to let his wand out of his sight. Finally he had a connection to his parents besides the fake stories that his aunt and uncle told.

They stopped to eat at Speedy's Special Brews and Sandwiches at seven for dinner. They ate a lot since they missed lunch. Harry paid, and although Hagrid said he could have done it, Harry could see he was secretly relieved.

They went back to the Leaky Cauldron and Hagrid ordered a room for the night. A sickly looking man in a turban came up beside Harry.

"H-H-Harry P-Potter? I-I-is it really you?" The man stuttered. Harry hid behind Hagrid in fear.

"Ah, Quirinus! How'r ya?" Hagrid clapped the smaller man on the shoulder so hard the man's knees buckled. The other man winced. "'Arry, this is Pr'fessor Quirrel. He'll be teachin' Defence of the Dark Arts at Hogwarts."

"Hullo, Professor," Harry mumbled. Professor Quirrell took Harry's hand and shook it. As soon as the older man touched his hand, a sharp pain ran though his scar.

"Ouch!" Harry brought his hand up and rubbed his forehead. Quirrell looked him up and down, giving off a strange look.

"I-I-I'll s-see you a-at the F-feast, H-H-Hagrid. G-good day, Mr. P-P-Potter." Quirrell left through the brick wall that connected the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley.

"Tha' was strange..." Hagrid mumbled.

Tom carried their stuff to their room, an upper one with a view of London. Dust flew as Harry plopped down on his bed.

Hagrid went to the desk and withdrew a quill and parchment. He began to write and Harry pulled out his wand. He looked it over, turning it around in his hands. The wood was a light golden color and it shone even brighter when the light hit it. He rubbed his hand over the smooth wood and silver sparks fluttered around the tip.

An eagle owl flew in the room and Hagrid gave it the letter he was writing along with an owl treat. It hooted, nipped his finger and flew out the window.

Hagrid sighed, rubbing his face.

"Is something wrong, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"Hmm?" Hagrid's head shot up. "No. I just sent a letter to Dumbledore, the Headmaster, tellin' about our day."

"Oh."

Harry pulled out the first book in his trunk, the Sherlock one, and began reading. He was fascinated by how the detective could deduce everything about a person with just a look. Soon, he was engrossed with the book, losing himself in the pages. He lost track of time as he read.

The light slowly faded until the only source of light was from the street lamps outside. Harry put his book back in his trunk when he couldn't see enough to read any more.

"You should get some rest, 'Arry. It's gettin' late. Someone will be here tomorrow to get ya," Hagrid said.

Harry wanted to ask who that person was, but as soon as his head hit his pillow, his eyes began to close of his own accord. He wrapped his wings around himself, keeping warm.

The last thing Harry saw before he went to sleep was the eagle owl returning, a letter clutched in its beak.

"Severus, please. You are the only option for this," Albus Dumbledore said, his fingers laced together. The old coot had a twinkle in his eye and he half expected to be offered one of those damnable lemon drops.

As if on cue, the headmaster reached into his robes an drew out a small tin tray which he pushed towards Severus. "Lemon drop, my boy?"

Severus pushed the tin back. "No thank you, Headmaster." He leaned back, draping his ebony wings over the chair and brought his hand to his mouth, tracing the outline of his lips with a potion stained finger. "What makes you think I am the perfect choice for this? Couldn't Potter just stay with his relatives? I'm sure he is quite happy being spoiled rotten there."

Dumbledore clicked his tongue. "That's just the thing, Severus. We have gotten a report from Hagrid saying that Harry has been receiving less than satisfactory care-"

"Oh, like what?" Severus interrupted. "He hasn't been getting enough presents on his birthday? Not enough sweets for dessert? I'm sure his relatives quite enjoy spoiling the brat. Just leave him there, Albus. You don't need to meddle in affairs that don't concern you."

Dumbledore looked displeased at being interrupted. "Just check on him, please. Just in case. You know Hagrid would never raise suspicion if there was no reason. Minerva is busy getting ready for the Sorting, Filius is visiting his cousin in America, and Pomona would love to take him in but she has to take care of her sister, so that leaves only you."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "What about Poppy? She adored Potter and Lily. I'm sure she would have no problem taking in their brat."

Dumbledore looked at him over his half-moon glasses. "Severus. Stop this. All you need to do is check with Harry's relatives and if everything checks out okay, you can come back and Hagrid will send Harry back to his home."

Severus sighed, resigned. He never could win arguments with the older man, no matter how hard he tried. "Fine. But I know Potter's relatives, and I can assure you, there will be nothing wrong."

Dumbledore handed him a small slip of parchment with words written on it. "This is where Harry lives. I expect to hear back from you later tonight." Severus snatched the paper from the headmaster. Twirling on his heel in an about face which made his robes billow in a dramatic effect, he stalked out the door.

After changing into some dark Muggle jeans and a dark blue dress shirt, he began his trek across the school grounds.

What was Albus thinking? The Potter brat was in the loving arms of his doting grandparents. They wouldn't dare raise a hand to their precious grandchild. Hagrid had most probably seen a scrape from the boy roughhousing and assumed the worst.

He pulled the slip of parchment from his pocket, looking at the address. Number Four Privet Drive? That was funny. He didn't remember the Evans' moving. As far as he knew, Mr. and Mrs.Evans had stayed at Lily's childhood home at Spinner's End in Cokeworth.

Reaching the entrance gate, he stepped out of Hogwarts' boundaries. He could feel the tingle of magic as he walked past the magical barriers. As soon as he could feel the stone path underneath his feet, he Apparated.

~'~

He knew something was wrong as soon as his feet touched the grass. The house was a bit too clean, even for the Evans' standards. The lawn was cut very short and the hedges pruned to near perfection. There were no weeds to be seen in the entire yard.

There was no way that two seventy something year olds would be able to do this much tidy work even if they worked together. And they definitely didn't drive sports cars. He knew the Evans' better than that.

As he trudged along the finely cut grass he had to wonder if Albus had given him the wrong address. He was proved wrong, however, when he knocked on the door and the horse face of Petunia Dursley nee Evans appeared.

"YOU!" She screeched when she saw who was behind the door. Severus winced internally. Her voice was still as shrill as ever, if not worse.

"Yes, me. I'm glad to see your observation skills haven't gone away over the years," he drawled. He stepped around her skeletal frame and walked into the house.

"You have no reason to be here!" She yelled at him. He just flicked his wand in her direction threateningly, and she shut up, stopping short.

"As a matter of fact, I do. I'm here on suspicion from a colleague that believed you have brought harm to one Mr. Potter," he said as he maneuvered around the house.

The house was spotless, everything was organized and appeared to be in its place. Framed photos of a rather large whale of a boy with a mop of blond hair covered nearly every surface of the walls. There was one large photo above the fireplace that showed a younger Petunia and her husband with the same boy, noticeably younger, in the middle. There wasn't a photo of Potter to be seen. It was as if the boy didn't exist.

"Tell me, Tuney," he sneered, using the hated nickname from their childhood. "Is your husband home?"

Petunia had followed his trail as he walked, staying near the shadows. She appeared beside the sofa. "He's still asleep right now, but he'll be up soon. He'll throw you out once he realizes what you are." She said with a smug grin.

"Oh, goody. I can't wait," he mumbled underneath his breath.

"Mum? I heard you yell. Is everything alright?" The large boy from the photos tromped down the stairs. His mouth was covered in what looked like dried syrup and his shirt sported old stains.

"Its okay, Diddykins, Mummy's just talking to an old friend." She spit the word out like it was venom. Severus smirked.

"Oh." Diddykins turned around to go back up to the second floor when Severus spotted it.

"How, may I ask, did that happen?" he questioned, motioning to the pig tail that was protruding from the boy's behind. The boy, realizing that his tail was out in the open, quickly covered his fat bottom with both hands.

"That-that giant thing hit him with his pink umbrella and caused my poor Dudders to get that monstrosity!" Severus' eyebrows shot up in surprise. Who knew Hagrid had it in him? Go Hagrid. He thought with an internal smirk.

"And just why did that 'giant thing', as you put it, attack your son?" Severus asked with barely concealed disgust.

"I just wanted some cake, and that freak was in the way!" Petunia's son pouted. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. Merlin help me keep my temper with spoiled brats.

With a wave of his wand that had Petunia letting out a short scream, the pig tail vanished. "There. Never say I never did anything good for you."

The blond boy turned around in a circle, trying to look at his bottom to see if the tail had really vanished. He just succeeded in looking like a overweight puppy chasing it's tail.

The sound of a door creaking open and heavy footfalls reached his ears. "Ah. I see your husband is awake."

A large man padded into the room, dressed in striped pajamas that looked like they were a size too small for him. He had the same shock of blonde hair as his son, and Severus figured it was usually kept well parted, but right then it was nothing more than a tangled mess of bed head. He had a ruffled mustache that made him look very identical to a walrus.

"Mr. Dursely, I presume?" Severus asked, stepping closer to the man.

"Don't let him near you, Vernon! He's on of them-!" Petunia began.

"-I am here under suspicion of you hurting a child in your care under the name of Harry Potter. He does live here, yes?" He cut her off.

"Yeah, why?" Vernon reluctantly answered, giving a sidelong glance to his wife. Petunia was shaking her head furiously.

"Do you hurt your ward or mistreat him in any way?" Severus began to walk around the house again. He stopped at the stairs.

"Not what I would consider mistreating. He just does some chores then goes to his room. He's too good to be around us, I reckon is what he thinks." Severus hummed an affirmative.

"Do you feed the boy,?"

"Of course we feed him!" Vernon shot, looking rather offended.

The Dursleys began to sweat when he neared the cupboard under the stairs. Severus noticed it immediately.

"What's in here?" He reached for the handle.

"NO!" Petunia shrieked before slapping a hand over her mouth. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, so there is something here, then? Let me just see." He reached for the handle and he could feel the family behind him hold their breath.

He opened the door enough to poke his head through. The lighting was horrible, but there was just enough light to see.

A shelf full of cleaning supplies and broken green army men was on one side. A ratty cot mattress was on the floor, holes littering the surface. A bucket in a corner gave off a horrible stench. Severus had to suppress a shudder when he saw the clump of spiders in the upper corner above him. He hated spiders.

Overall, this just looked like a place a child would come to play. He began to rise. He would have to tell Albus it was just a big misunderstanding...

Harry's Room.

He stopped dead in his tracks. In what looked like a child's scrawl, written in green crayon were the words Harry's Room on the inside of the cupboard door. The R was backwards and the M had a tail, as if someone had jerked the arm writing it. He saw red, memories of his own childhood coming to his mind.

Slowly, he turned to the other occupants of the room. "Just what is this?" He asked coldly, pointing to the words.

Vernon looked like he had took a shower with is clothes on, he was sweating so much. "W-Well, you know how kids are. They have uh, large imaginations and-" He never got to finish.

Severus had grabbed the front of his shirt collar, wand completely forgotten. Inches from the giant walrus' face, he spat: "Why would you stuff a child in a cupboard? What did this child ever do to you?"

Vernon's innocent façade faded and his face grew hard. "He's a freak. He's one of them! Spawns of the devil they are with their magic! The boy needed to be taught a lesson!"

Severus threw the man with such force that the wall cracked when Vernon collided with it. Dudley whimpered, eyes wide. He went for the stairs but Severus stopped him with a wave of his hand. Another wave and the pig tail was back. Petunia screamed.

"Quiet, you!" He pointed a finger at her and although her mouth was open, no noise came out. She clutched her throat, eyes wide. She tried to speak, but no sound came out. She turned to him, silently screaming, her arms waving wildly. She looked rather ridiculous.

"This is not over," Severus growled, giving them a glare that would make the bravest Auror run for the hills. "This will get out, and you will pay the price. If I find out that there is more than this," he pointed towards the cupboard door, the small green letters jutting out against the white, "jail time would be the least of your problems." He sneered, making the Dursleys flinch.

Severus stalked out of the house, anger rising. Why did Albus send the Potter brat there? He knew his grandparents could have taken him in. Lovingly, in fact!

Severus glared at two kids that blocked his path. They quickly split, moving out of the way. He would have to get retribution later. First, a trip to the Leaky Cauldron was needed.

.'.

Harry woke up to the sound of whispered voices. As quietly as he could, he walked over to the door, cracking it open a bit. Hagrid was talking to another man with long black hair and a hooked nose. He was a wizard, going by the large black wings protruding from his back. They seemed to be in a very heated conversation. Listening closely, he could pick up snippets.

"How could Albus let him stay there? He knew they wouldn't be right-"

"He just wanted tha best for young 'Arry-"

"The best? They boy was living in a cupboard-"

Harry drew back quickly. They were talking about him!

The door opened and Harry scrambled away quickly to his bed, barely managing to hop on the edge as Hagrid and the other man stepped inside.

The man with the black wings stopped and stared at Harry with a piercing look from onyx eyes. Harry was instantly reminded of Sherlock, how he looked at people and seemed to understand everything, almost like an X-ray.

"Mr. Potter, my name is Severus Snape. I am the Potions Master and Potions professor at Hogwarts. I will be in charge of finding a home for you this summer until you go to school," Snape said, stepping closer. Harry held out his hand out of reflex. Snape looked at it for a moment, thoughtful, then grasped Harry's hand back and shook once curtly. The man's stained hands were large and surprisingly warm.

Snape took the chair from the desk and sat opposite Harry's bed. He crossed his long legs and draped his raven wings over the back of the chair, hands folded neatly in his lap.

"Hagrid, if you don't mind stepping outside, I believe Mr. Potter and I have some things to talk about."

.'.

Severus could hardly believe what he was seeing. The boy looked like a twig! How had no one noticed before? He would definitely be having a word with Albus later, after an examination with Poppy.

Potter fidgeted with the hem of his dirty oversized shirt. Severus sneered at the garment. He would have to take the boy shopping for new clothes soon. Joy.

Seeing Severus' sneer, Potter ducked his head down. Severus' eyes narrowed. Definitely more than malnutrition. The ticks were adding up on the Dursleys, not in their favor.

"Um, sir? Can I ask a question?" Potter asked. Severus had to bite his tongue to hold back the sarcastic response of You just did.

Severus nodded. "I'm sure you have many questions. I will try to answer to the best of my knowledge."

Potter seemed to think for a moment. He continued fidgeting with that damn shirt. Severus repressed the urge to slap the boy's hands away.

Severus waited. Potter was making no attempt to speak, just looking at Severus then ducking his head. He inwardly sighed. Merlin's left toe, why was it always him that ended up in these situations?

"Potter!" he snapped, losing patience. He pretending not to see the flinch from the boy. "You said you have questions? Ask them. I do not have all day."

Potter's head snapped up. "Sorry, sir," he apologized.

Definitely not like his father, Severus thought. Potter's wings folded around himself, as if they could offer protection.

Potter licked his lips. "Why are you taking me away?"

Severus quirked an elegant eyebrow. "Do you wish to stay with your relatives then?"

Potter's eyes widened. "No! I mean, uh, no, sir. I was just...curious." He began to twist the material of his shirt with such force that Severus feared it might rip. It wouldn't do anything to improve the look of the shirt.

"Is that all?" Potter nodded. "All right. Now I have some questions I want you to answer truthfully."

He unfolded his legs. "Tell me, Mr. Potter, how are your living conditions with your aunt and uncle?"

Harry jerked as if he had been slapped. "I-Its good, sir. I'm fine there."

Severus highly doubted it, if the information he had gathered so far had to say anything. But he didn't say anything. Instead, he said:

"How many meals do you get in a day?"

"U-um, enough." Strike one

"Where do you sleep?"

"On a bed." Strike two

"Do you like your relatives?"

"They're alright, I guess." Strike three. You're out!

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He was obviously not going to get anywhere with the boy. Making up his mind, he sat forward.

"Potter, look at me."

With a light Legilimency, he pushed into the boy's mind. Memories flooded past him, going whichever way.

Potter, no older than three, making food, while his family sat at the table ...

Potter being shoved into the cupboard...

Potter standing in front of a mirror, looking at his new wings with awe...

He grasped onto a one as it whizzed by and stepped through the memory.

A loud banging instantly filled his ears. "GET UP, BOY. I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY!"

Potter groaned and rolled around on the matted cupboard mattress to face the door. Severus gasped when he saw the large hand shaped bruise that marred the boy's left cheek.

The door opened and Potter had to crouch down to exit. A large beefy hand swatted the boy across the head, sending the boy tumbling down.

"Go make breakfast. Dudley's hungry," Vernon Dursley growled. Potter ducked his head as another swat came his way.

"Yes, sir."

Potter went to the kitchen, just as spotless as Severus had seen before. He bet every Galleon in his vault that it was Potter that cleaned it.

The young boy began to get out a skillet from the bottom cabinet. Petunia walked in. "You better not burn it, boy, or it will be three days without food!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." Severus grit his teeth. She was just as despicable as ever.

As Potter began to make omelets, the rest of the family came in and sat down.

"Mummy, I'm hungry! Make the freak go faster!" the fat boy whined. He was so large that his bottom didn't even fit on the seat and the chair groaned as he sat down.

Petunia swatted Potter on the head with a fly swatter. "Hurry up, boy!"

Potter, who had moved the pan over to put the omelet on a plate, jerked from the slap, dropping the cast-iron skillet on his foot and the omelet landed on the floor with a splat.

Vernon's face went an impressive shade of purple. "BOY!" He bellowed. Potter flinched and shrank back, the words "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" streaming from his mouth.

Vernon pushed back out of his chair and stalked towards the cowering boy, a promise of murder glinting in his beady eyes. He began to take off his belt and Severus' heart fell to his stomach as he realized what was about to happen.

Vernon grabbed Potter by the arm so hard there was bound to be a bruise and threw him towards the wall. Potter took off his shirt, showing old and new scars crisscrossing his back. He put his hands against the wall and Severus felt sick knowing that this was routine for the boy.

Petunia didn't even react or seemed to care as Vernon began to beat the boy with the belt buckle. Severus was filled with rage. She should have done something, not just stand there and pretend nothing was wrong. What made it worse was that Dudley was watching with a kind of twisted sinister smile. "Teach the freak a lesson, Dad!" he said. Severus wanted to slap the boy.

Potter made no reaction as he was being beat, just staring blankly and defeated as his back was being pummeled.

"This is just the beginning, you freak!" The eldest Dursley sneered. "Just wait 'till this is done..."

Severus shuddered. He didn't need to see the end. He didn't want to.

He quickly exited the boy's mind, his own still reeling from what he saw. Oh, Dumbledore was definitely going to hear about this.

Potter blinked, his eyes a bit glazed over.

"Sir? What just happened?" Potter asked as he rubbed his eyes.

Severus said nothing, but got up and walked to the door. "You can come back in now, Hagrid," he said to the large man waiting outside.

Severus turned from the door to face Potter as Hagrid came through. "Mr. Potter, I would suggest gathering your belongings. We will be leaving soon."

Potter jumped off the bed. He grabbed his trunk and his wand from his dirty bedside table. He tugged on his ratty sneakers then came to stand beside Severus. "Ready, sir!"

Severus looked at the meager belongings. "This is all?"

Potter nodded his head. "Yes, sir. All of my school books and Potion ingredients are in my trunk, and my other supplies Hagrid shrunk and put in his pockets."

Severus gave a questioning look at Hagrid. He did magic? Hagrid just made swiping motions with his hand across his throat and shook his head.

Severus nodded back in response. Don't say anything. Alright.

Hagrid opened the dirt-caked window, allowing Hedwig to fly out. Potter gasped. "Why did you do that? Where did she go?"

"She will be fine, Mr. Potter. She will be waiting for us when we reach our destination," Severus tried to reassure the boy, but he could tell Potter was a bit skeptical.

"We will be Apparating, Potter. Hold on tight." Before Potter could say anything, Severus wrapped a large black wing around the boy, drawing him close, and with a crack! was gone.

.'.

Harry felt like he was being squeezed through a tube. A really small one. When they landed, Harry fell on his bum, feeling dizzy and sick, his wings fluttering slightly. Snape was still standing, staring down at Harry, his now-folded wings blending slightly in with his dark blue shirt. He seemed impatient as Harry struggled to get up.

"Hurry up, Potter." Snape began walking down a stone path and Harry had to quicken his pace to keep up with the taller man's longer stride. His trunk dragged behind him, slowing him down a little bit as it wobbled with every bump.

Harry felt a tingle surround his body and he gasped when he saw the hugs castle that suddenly appeared, looming overhead. They passed through large iron gates and Harry could see a hut out in the distance, smoke billowing from the chimney.

"Who lives there?" Harry asked, pointing towards the hut.

Snape looked where Harry was pointing. "That is Hagrid's hut. He lives on the grounds."

That's when Harry realized the giant man wasn't with them. "Hey, where is Hagrid?"

"He will be following shortly." Harry hoped Snape was right.

"Alright..."

They stepped through the large entrance doors and went up a few stairs. Harry's mouth fell open in shock and awe.

Four large long tables took up the floor while another long table sat on top of steps, overlooking the others. Colorful banners were above each one, each one depicting a different animal. There was a silver snake, a gold lion, a black badger and a silver eagle. What really caught Harry's attention was the ceiling. Or at least, what Harry thought was the ceiling.

The sky filled the area where the ceiling should have been. Bright blues and fluffy white clouds filled the space and Harry could even feel the rays of the sun tickle his face. He couldn't see where the ceiling ended or began.

"Wow," he breathed. Snape looked down at him, an amused twinkle in his onyx eyes.

"Where are we?" Harry looked up to face Snape.

"You haven't figured it out by now, Potter? This is Hogwarts." Snape gestured around the large room "The room we are in right now is the Great Hall, where we eat."

Harry's eyes widened as he was presented with the information. This was Hogwarts? This magnificent place was where he was going to go to school? Again, Harry was star-struck.

"No dawdling. You will get the full tour when you come back for school." Harry quickly followed.

They continued walking, passing by large suits of armor. There was even a statue of a one-eyed witch, which freaked Harry out a bit. He jumped when a portrait of an old man playing cards began to move and talk. Snape just pushed him along, telling him to ignore the portraits. "They're annoying and often lead you the wrong way. I have learned not to trust them very much."

On the fourth floor, they stopped in front of a horrible smelling door. It smelled like Harry's cupboard, filled with cleaning supplies and too many chemicals.

"This is the Infirmary, Potter. Inside, we have a Mediwitch, a nurse of sorts. She will look over you and heal any wounds you may have." Harry flinched, but if Snape saw, he didn't let on.

Snape pushed open the door. "Madam Pomfrey! I am in need of your assistance!"

A few moments later, a woman that looked slightly older than Snape came bustling through, weaving around white-sheeted beds and bedpans. She was had a white apron on and a weird hat with a red cross on it. Her wings looked clean and recently preened. They were a dark grey color, fading into white at the ends.

"Well, its about time you come to me instead of hiding yourself in your room!" she chastised. She noticed Harry and her eyes widened.

"Goodness, is that Harry Potter?" Harry wanted to know why everyone seemed to know his name. It was getting slightly annoying.

"Yes, ma'am. I am." Harry said a bit snappily. Snape glanced down at him, but Harry couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Mr. Potter here is in need of an examination I believe," Snape said. Madam Pomfrey gave Harry a questioning glance.

"He may have some broken bones that need to be re-set. He is also in dire need of Nutrient Potions." Madam Pomfrey nodded and shooed Harry to a bed. He felt rather ridiculous as she fluttered around him, poking and prodding and waving her wand. She reminded Harry of a mother hen.

She stretched out one of his wings. "Yes, very good! Very healthy, strong wings! You'll be a natural flyer. You'd make a good addition to your House's Quidditch team!" Harry didn't know what this 'Quidditch' was, but it sounded interesting. He had never participated in a sport before. Maybe now he could.

He heard the rustle of clothing and he turned around to see Snape leaving.

"Where are you going?" He called. Remembering his manners, he added. "Uh, sir?" He felt silly, calling to the man as if he was a little kid. He had only met the man a mere two hours ago, and he already sounded attached.

Snape gave Harry an awkward look. "I am going to speak with the Headmaster of your new living arrangements. You will not be going back to the Dursleys." Snape turned back towards the door.

"I'll be back. I promise." Harry heard Snape whisper as he walked out of the Infirmary.

.'.

"What?!" Dumbledore slammed his hands on the table, sending trinkets and books flying off of the table, his brilliant blue wings flared out behind him. For a moment, Severus thought the Headmaster would lose control of his magic. He could feel a tickle surround his body as Dumbledore's strong aura filled the room. Fawkes squawked, flapping his wings. Books and portraits shook on their perches.

The tingle slowly faded as Dumbledore gained control again, the shaking objects stilling. "Tell me this isn't true, Severus."

"I wish I could, Headmaster." Severus said solemnly. He had felt sick telling Dumbledore the story of what he saw inside Potter's memories. No doubt Dumbledore had felt just as sick hearing it.

Dumbledore put his head in his hands. He shook his head, a heartbreaking moan erupting the broken man. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. He raised his head, looking straight at Severus with pain filled eyes. "It's all my fault," he hiccuped.

Severus didn't know what to do. He had never been in a situation like this. The Headmaster was usually so...in control. Never had he seen the old man look as broken as he did at that moment.

"You never knew what was going on. There was no way to stop it," Severus tried his best at comforting. He got up from his chair and patted the older man on the back awkwardly, rubbing circles around and around, soothing the tense muscles.

"I had someone there to watch him. The never reported anything wrong." Dumbledore said, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes with the handkerchief that Severus gave him.

"Well then it is their fault. They should have seen the signs." Severus sat back down. Fawkes chirped an affirmative, agreeing with Severus.

"There is no need to blame Arabella. She didn't know. She was just as in the dark as the rest of us." Dumbledore tried defending.

"Arabella? Arabella Figg? You put her in charge of watching the boy? She can barely keep track of her trillion cats, let alone keep track of a small child!" Severus snarled.

"Yes, well, the past is in the past, isn't it? What's done is done." Dumbledore still sounded guilty, but he schooled his features into the grandfatherly Headmaster everyone knew. "For now, we need to worry about where Harry is going to stay, since his relatives are obviously out of the question."

Severus narrowed his eyes. Dumbledore was changing the topic on purpose. He went with it, albeit reluctantly.

"Obviously."

Dumbledore seemed slightly relieved that Severus let the change in topic go. "Yes, well, I have a few ideas in mind where Harry could go. Two actually. The first is that Harry could stay here until he goes to school, but I highly doubt that will happen. The second, well..." Dumbledore peered over his half-moon spectacles, giving Severus a pointed look.

Severus knew what he meant instantly. He jumped up from the chair, nearly sending it toppling over. "NO! No! I did not agree to this, Headmaster! I agreed to get him out of the Dursley's care, that's it! I did not agree to taking the boy in!"

"But, Severus, think of poor Harry. I imagine he has already grown attached to you, what with you saving him and all. If he stays here, he'll become a ward of the Ministry and Merlin knows what will happen to him then." The damn twinkle in his eyes were blinding. It was hard to believe that the man had been in near hysterics just moments before.

"I don't give a damn what happens to Potter!" He yelled.

That's not true, a voice in his head whispered. You did promise the boy you would be back. He shook it off.

"I think you care more than you realize. Your reaction while telling me about Harry tells me you care for the boy."

Severus sneered. "Anyone would feel sick hearing what happened to the boy."

Dumbledore hummed, an infuriating smile etched on his face. "Don't forget, Severus, he's Lily's child, too. You owe her that much, at least."

Severus glared. Damn him.

"Fine. But just for the summer. No more. I'm going to be dealing with him enough during school."

Dumbledore just smiled wider.

But also his mother's friend, the voice chimed in again. He growled, telling the voice to sod the fuck off. Dear Merlin, he was going barmy.

Potter didn't seem to notice Severus' internal struggle, too busy petting the white feathers of the beautiful snowy owl on his shoulder; Hedwig, if he remembered correctly. She had fluttered in after Potter had gotten through with his examination, scaring Poppy half to death. It was quite amusing, watching the usually stern Mediwitch screech as Hedwig fluttered around, knocking into things, looking for her owner.

He stopped in front of a large portrait depicting a forest scene. It was definitely out of place in the dark dungeons, but he hadn't the heart to get rid of it after Slughorn had retired. He quite liked the portrait as well, but nobody needed to know that.

Potter bumped into him, still cooing to his owl. "Sorry, sir," he mumbled but not shyly. He had seemed to grow more attached to Severus on their trek down the dungeons, (much to Severus' annoyance) and therefore was more confident.

"It's alright," Severus said semi-nicely, his fake smile looking more like a grimace. If he had to live with the spawn of James Potter for two months, he had better make it as enjoyable as he could.

"Calla Lilly," he said to the portrait, and the painting swung open, revealing a brick wall.

Potter looked puzzled. "Sir? I thought there was supposed to be a door behind there?"

Severus gave an amused glance to the boy behind him. "There is. Watch." He placed his hand on the brick in the middle, and the area around his hand began to glow a pale blue. He plucked a feather from his wing and placed it next to his hand. The blue aura turned a lime green and the brick wall disappeared, revealing a dark oak wood door behind it.

"This is an extra precaution. My magical aura is channeled into the door so only I can access it. If someone who knew my password tried to get into my rooms, they would be met with a brick wall. If they tried to enter through force, an automatic warding spell will activate, stunning them immediately," he explained.

Potter whistled. "Awesome." Hedwig hooted her agreement.

Severus sniffed haughtily. "'Awesome' indeed."

He stepped over the threshold, Potter right on his heels. "I am going to gather my things, Potter. Stay right here and touch nothing, do you understand?"

Potter nodded. "Yes, sir." He mock saluted. He began to spin around slowly, taking in the living room. Hedwig flew from Potter's shoulder and perched herself on the back of Severus' favorite winged-back chair next to the fireplace.

Shaking his head, he left the bird and boy and began walking down the hallway to his room.

.'.

Harry took in the room with a sense of awe. He seemed to be doing that lately, but in his defense, everything was amazing.

The walls were a dark brick, which he kind of expected, seeing as it was the dungeons. The couch and chairs were a black leather that shone in the firelight. A green rug took up the floor and a dark wood table sat in the corner. Whatever space there was on the walls were filled up by shelves filled to the brim with books and bottles of various pickled animals.

A picture on top of the fireplace caught his eye. It was a rather light picture, compared to the darkness of the room and his curiosity peaked immediately. He had to look at this photo.

As carefully as he could, he stood on his tiptoes, gripping the edge of the mantle shelf for support, and reached for the picture, Snape's warning fleeing from his mind. The picture was a bit farther back as he thought. His fingers barely grazed the glass protecting the image. His toes began to hurt, so he plopped back down flat-footed.

He got a glimpse of wings in the photo when he was up there. Copper wings, to be exact, that looked exactly like his from what he could see.

He tried reaching again, jumping this time, and managed to grasp the edge of the frame. He lost his balance however and fell back down on his rear. He quickly looked towards the hallway, praying that Snape hadn't heard the noise. He waited with baited breath, and when Snape didn't come barreling down the hallway, he let a sigh of relief escape him.

The photo was now laying face-down, still on the mantle.

"Hey, Hedwig," He turned towards his owl. Hedwig stopped preening her feathers and looked at him. "Do you think you could fly up there and get me the picture?"

Hedwig gave him a 'are you crazy?' look and went back to preening her feathers.

Harry huffed. "Some help you are," he grumbled.

He looked around for something to stand on that wouldn't get ruined from the dirt on his shoes. He found nothing. Harry sat crossed-legged on the floor, dejected, and began playing with one of his primary feathers. How was he supposed to get the picture now?

Oh.

Oh.

Harry felt like an idiot.

Hopping back up on his feet, Harry spread his wings. He flapped them a few times in preparation. Hedwig watched with a bored look.

He bent his legs, and just as he was about to let off and fly to the mantle, a silky voice came from behind him:

"Just what do you think you are doing, Potter?"

Harry gulped, his wings slowly falling back down. He turned to see Snape tapping his foot, arms folded and a very unimpressed look on his face. He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a sneer on his lips. "Well?"

"Uh..." Harry's eyes were darting anywhere that wasn't Snape, searching his brain for an excuse.

Hedwig hopped from the chair to the mantle, grabbed the picture with her talons, and flew to Snape. He took the frame as Hedwig landed on his shoulder.

Harry felt betrayed. You tattletale, he thought towards his owl.

Snape looked down at the picture in his hand and then at Harry. "What were you planning on doing with this?"

"I just wanted to look at it! I wasn't going to steal it or anything," he started to argue but his voice trailed off at the end when Snape gave him a pointed glare.

Snape looked back down at the picture, his features softening a tad. "Do you know who this person is, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked with more emotion he had ever heard from the man.

"Um, no, sir. I don't." Harry replied honestly. "I only got to see the wings."

Snape turned the photo around in his hands, seeming to contemplate something. After a moment where Harry thought he had turned into a statue, he wordlessly handed the photo to Harry and went behind him to pick up their trunks, Hedwig still perched on his shoulder.

Harry watched Snape throw something into the fire, turning the orange flames green. He turned back to the photo, barely hearing Snape's shout of "Spinner's End!" and the whoosh that followed.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw the full picture. A girl around his age, if not slightly older stared back at him. Her eyes, which looked exactly like Harry's, were full of energy and happiness. Her bright auburn locks were flying in around her face, frozen in the picture. Her wings, identical to Harry's as well, were spread out, turning gold from the sunlight. Hidden slightly behind her wings, a boy with long black hair and raven wings was waving, crinkles around his eyes from the large smile on his face.

Harry turned back to the professor. Snape was crouched down in front of the fire, wings touching the floor, staring into the flames with a far away look.

"Sir, who is this?" Harry asked. He felt as if he knew the girl from somewhere, but he couldn't place it.

Snape swallowed thickly. "That girl," he drew in a shaky breath, "is your mother. We were best friends when we were little," he said, sounding pained. Harry guessed if he had lost his best friend, he would still be sad, too. But he didn't have a best friend, so he wouldn't know the pain.

"Oh." He wanted to hug the photo to his chest, but he didn't know how Snape would react to that. Instead, he walked over to where Snape was still crouched down, and held the picture out.

Snape looked at it for a moment, then shoved it back towards Harry. "Keep it."

Harry fumbled with the picture. "Really?"

Snape looked like he was going to snatch the picture back, but nodded slowly. "Yes."

This time, Harry did hug the photo to his chest. He hugged it so tight that the edges of the frame dug into his skin, but he didn't care. "Thank you, sir! Thank you, thank you!"

Snape seemed a bit uncomfortable. "You're welcome."

He cleared his throat, and Harry looked up from showing Hedwig, who had flown from Snape's shoulder to Harry's.

"We will be leaving now, Potter," Snape said, standing up.

"I thought we were staying here, sir?"

"Absolutely not." Snape seemed to shudder before continuing. "We will be going to my house in Cokeworth. We will be traveling by Floo."

Another traveling method that Harry knew noting about. First Apparation and now Floo. What next? A flying carpet?

Sensing Harry's confusion, Snape explained: "Floo is travel by fire. You throw this," Snape picked up a small urn filled with powder, "Floo powder into the flame and say where you wish to go very clearly. If you do not speak clearly, there is no telling where you will go."

"We are going to be traveling by fire?" Harry asked, incredulous. "Wouldn't that hurt?"

"Not at all. The Floo powder prevents the flames from hurting. I have already sent our stuff ahead." Now that he mentioned it, Harry saw no sign of the trunks. "Now come here, I will instruct you on how to enter the flames."

Warily, Harry walked towards Snape. He didn't quite believe him.

Snape must have seen the doubt on Harry's face because he rolled his eyes. "Oh for God's sakes! Just get over here! It's not going to kill you!"

Harry shuffled quickly to the older man, Hedwig flying off his shoulder with an annoyed nip at the ear.

"Thank you!" Snape huffed. "Now, once I throw this Floo powder into the fire, it will be safe to use. Do NOT step into the fireplace until I say otherwise."

Harry took a step away from the fireplace, closer to Snape.

Snape threw the powder in the fire and it turned green like before.

"Alright. Now, Potter, you may step into the fire." Harry did so, and he unclenched his muscles as the fire gradually began to cool. It felt odd, cold fire.

"Keep you arms tucked firmly beside you," Harry stood straighter and clutched the photo close to his chest, " ...or on your chest. That will work as well, I suppose. Keep your wings folded tightly behind you," Harry folded his wings to his back, "Do not move. Stay perfectly still while you spin. Do you understand me?" Harry nodded. "Good. Now...Spinner's End!"

Harry's world instantly turned. He could see inside other living rooms as he span, and he wanted nothing more than to hold out a hand and catch himself when he felt like he would fall, but he stayed still to Snape's orders.

He was finally spat out face first next to their trunks in a very dirty living room. Well, from what he could tell. He was covered head to toe in soot and it seemed his glasses got the worst of it.

He quickly moved out of the way when he heard the fireplace roar and Snape stepped out, hardly any soot or dirt on him. He took one look at Harry (or better yet, his glasses) and Harry swore he heard a repressed snort which shocked him more than made him mad. Snape could laugh? He didn't think the stern man had it in him.

Snape waved his wand, and the soot disappeared. Harry could see more clearly and he ruffled his wings, making sure all the stuff from the fireplace was out of all of his feathers.

"Your owl is resting in Hogwarts' owlery. She will be here later tonight or tomorrow," Snape said, picking up his own trunk.

Harry picked up his as well, noticing the other supplies and Hedwig's cage that Hagrid had kept were laying on top of it. He quickly stuffed the clothes in the trunk and shut the lid with difficulty.

Snape led him up the stairs and into a long hallway. He showed Harry the bathroom and his room, which he was never to enter unless there was an emergency. Finally, he stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway.

"This is your room. Put your stuff in here then join me down in the kitchen in twenty minutes. I'm sure that is enough time to get everything organized, yes?" Snape turned and walked down the hall to his own room.

Harry pushed open his door-his own room!-and peered inside. The walls and ceiling were a light blue and the ceiling had white clouds on it. There was a twin sized bed pushed next to a rather small window. A desk was in the corner, a bottle of what looked like ink and a feather-Quill, if he remembered correctly-poking out of it was on it as well as a small lamp. A dresser was on the wall of the door.

A tiny bookshelf was opposite the desk, filled with thin children's books. This had obviously belonged to a child at some point. Funny, he didn't remember Snape mentioning he had a kid.

He drug his trunk to the end of the bed and sat on it. He looked around, still full of wonder. The room had a inch of dust on it, but he didn't care. He had his own room! Never had he dreamed he would have something like a room to call his own.

He began to pull out his school books, placing them next to the small children's ones and placed his wand on the desk. His clothes would have to be hung up and folded later. He placed Hedwig's cage on top of the bookcase along with the picture of his mother.

He closed his trunk and walked out of the room, satisfied. He had only taken ten minutes. He still had ten more to go. He stopped in front of Snape's door. Light shown from the bottom crack.

Deciding to leave Snape alone in case he got yelled at, he went down to the kitchen, which doubled as the dining room.

He sat down at the dining table. A sliding glass door was beside the table, and Harry moved the curtains so he could see outside. There was a rather large yard for such a small house. A small creek ran through the middle of it. From what Harry could see, the creek was heavily polluted. He definitely wasn't going swimming in that any time soon.

The grass was overgrown, and weeds were poking out from the small porch. Harry saw a clump of grass move. His curiosity peaked once more that evening, and he sat forward, closer to the door.

The clump moved again and Harry got up to investigate. He opened the door slowly, trying not to make much noise and stepped onto the patio.

He walked as slowly and quietly as possible towards the wriggling grass. He peered and nearly jumped back in horror, a small shout of surprise emitting from his mouth. A black water snake stared back, it's head cocked to the side almost curiously.

'Hello'.

Harry spun around wildly, trying to locate the voice.

'What are you doing?'

There it was again!

"Who are you?" He called.

'I am Ssspin.'

Spin? Who the heck was Spin?

'Look down.'

Harry looked down. The snake was in the same spot, but raised up a bit, coming up to Harry's knee.

"Are you Spin?" he asked, willing himself to stay still. There was no way he was going to run away from a water snake. He had faced worse.

The snake, Spin, bobbed it's head in a nod.

Harry felt as if he was going crazy. He was talking to a snake, and it was responding! Surely this wasn't normal, even in the wizard world!

'Hello, Ssspeaker.'

"Speaker? What do you mean?" Harry asked.

'You ssspeak my language. Not many of your kind do.' Spin replied.

He knew it! "Who else speaks your, uh, language?"

Spin seemed to shudder, if snakes could shudder. 'There isss an evil one, known to the sssnakess as the Evil Hissser. He ssspeaksss the language of the sssnakesss asss well. You wizardsss know him asss Lord Voldemort.'

Oh, great. Of all the people Harry had to have the same rare talent with, it had to be the man who killed his parents.

"I'm guessing snakes don't like him very much?" Harry asked.

Spin shook his head. 'He thinksss he can control usss with hisss Parcccel Magic. Only one that I know of hasss followed him. Ssshe isss a fool.'

"What's her name?"

'Ssshe goesss by the name of Nagini.'

Nagini? That was certainly an odd name, although not as odd as Spin. He didn't tell the snake that.

"So do all snakes hate people that can do Parcel Magic?"

Spin shook his head. 'Only thossse with bad intentionsss, like Evil Hissser.'

"Oh. So you do not hate me?"

'No. Unlesss you want to control me?'

Harry shook his head rapidly. "No! Never! I would never want to control anybody. Or anything!"

Spin seemed pleased with that answer. 'What isss your name, Ssspeaker? You never inroduccced yourssself.'

"Oh, uh, my name is Harry." Harry flushed. He never thought to introduce himself. How rude.

'Harry. That'sss a niccce name.' Spin said. He cocked his head sideways in thought, then slithered towards Harry.

Harry tried to hold back a whimper as Spin slithered up his leg and onto his shoulder. His scales were cold and slimy from being in the murky water.

'I like you, Harry. You are niccce.' Spin hissed in his ear.

"Uh...thanks?" Harry make a weird squealing noise in the back of his throat.

'Can you be my friend?'

"S-sure." Spin hissed in happiness and nuzzled his cheek.

'Thank you, Harry. I have never had a friend before.'

Harry warily petted Spin's head with one finger. "You're welcome."

"HARROLD JAMISON POTTER! WHAT IN HADES ARE YOU DOING?!"

Harry jumped at Snape's enraged yell. Snape was standing at the opened sliding door, a look of pure fury and...was that concern on his face as well?

"Put that snake down this instant!" He stalked towards Harry. His black wings were spread wide, making him look like a vengeful dark angel.

"It's fine, sir!" Harry said, suddenly protective of his new slithery friend. "He's nice! He wont hurt me!"

Snape stopped inches away from Harry. "And how would you know that?"

"Spin is my friend."

Snape looked exasperated. "You have already named the damned snake?"

"No. Spin told me his name."

Snape paused. "He...told you?"

Harry nodded quickly. "Uh-huh." Spin whispered something and Harry cocked his head closer to hear better.

"Spin says you are not a nice man," Harry relayed.

"You can understand him?" Snape asked, ignoring the mean man comment. He no longer seemed mad. If anything, he seemed a bit curious and scared.

"Yep," he said, making the P pop.

Snape sighed, and ran a hand through his long hair, his wings going down. He turned back towards the house."Inside. Now. We need to talk."

With a sense of dread, he shared a glance with Spin and followed the older man inside.

.'.

Severus couldn't believe it. A Parselmouth! The damn boy was a Parselmouth.

Dear Merlin, the afternoon couldn't have gotten any more weird. Was it only four hours ago that he had visited the Dursleys?

He pulled out a chair from underneath the dining table and turned it around, straddling it and placing his arms on the back.

Potter tried to do the same, but just looked silly with his arms way above his head and his feet dangling off the floor. The boy's cheeks turned red and he turned the seat around and sat in it the proper way. The snake was still resting on the boy's shoulder, the tail curled around Potter's arm. It stared at him the entire time.

"I'm sorry, Potter, but I have to do this." Before Potter could react, he pulled out his wand, pointing at the snake, and shouted "Animagus Revealio!"

Nothing. The snake stayed exactly the way it was, if not looking slightly confused. Spin-was the snake really named Spin? What an odd name-hissed something and Potter hissed back, probably not even realizing he was doing so. Severus shuddered. He would never get used to someone speaking Parseltongue.

"Sspin is confussed. What wass that sspell ssuppossed to do, ssir?" Potter asked, hissing his S's slightly.

Severus rubbed his temples at the sharp pain that suddenly appeared. He repressed yet another shudder. "It was nothing, Potter. That spell was just a precaution. I was trying to make sure that the snake wasn't animagus, a witch or wizard that can transform into an animal at will."

Potter gave him a confused look.

"You'll find out soon enough," Severus said with a slight smirk. Minerva's show was always spectacular. No doubt Potter would get the shock of his lifetime when the cat turned into his teacher.

"Now, about your snake. Spin, was it?" The black snake nodded at the same time Potter said, "Yes, sir!"

"Do you know that this...talent that you have is not a very common one?" Severus questioned.

Potter nodded. "Yes, sir. Spin told me. He also said that I share it with Vol-uh, You-Know-Who."

Severus wasn't surprised the snake knew about the Dark Lord. Animals, unlike Muggles, had the ability to go through each world as they pleased and could see and experience the magic. No doubt Potter's snake had heard the rumors and tales of the Dark Lord in his time in the magical world.

"Yes, you do," Severus said slowly. "It is often considered Dark Magic," Seeing the crestfallen look on Potter's face, he quickly continued, "but that does not make you Dark. I personally do not see it as that. I see it as an asset. It is only Dark if you use it with bad intentions."

Realization dawned on the boy. "Oh! Spin said something like that. He said You-Know-Who used his Parcel Magic to control other snakes and only one joined him. What was her name?" The snake hissed something.

"Nagini? Yeah, Nagini. That was the snake. Thanks, Spin. Anyway, apparently snakes hate You-Know-Who because he tries to control them and Nagini now because she joined him."

Potter's snake knew the Dark Lord's? "Really? She is well known in the snake...community?" Spin hissed in Potter's ear.

"She wasn't but then she joined Evil Hisser, er, You-Know-Who. Word travels fast with snakes."

Much like Hogwarts, Severus thought.

"Sir, will I be able to take Spin with me to Hogwarts? I know I have Hedwig, but I don't want to leave Spin behind," Potter asked, changing the topic abruptly. Potter cradled Spin in his hands. The black snake wrapped around his wrist and stared at Severus as if daring him to refuse.

"I...will have to talk to the Headmaster. I'm sure he would understand, but I hold no promises."

Potter's eyes lit up and Severus was painfully reminded of Lily. "Thank you, sir!"

Spin hissed in happiness, seeming pleased.

"It is not me you should be thanking," Severus pointed out.

"Thank you anyway, for bringing the topic to the Headmaster."

Severus nodded. "You are welcome."

He watched as Potter let Spin slither around his hand, playing with the snake. The Headmaster would not take the news well that his Golden Boy was a Parselmouth. It definitely wouldn't do for word to get out. No doubt an uproar would occur over the fact that the boy could possible be a Dark Wizard.

"I am sure you have many more questions," As do I "but those will have to be answered tomorrow. For right now, this house needs to be cleaned." He wrinkled his nose at the dirt that caked the floor. Potter nodded, agreeing.

"But I must know one thing from Spin." He turned to the snake.

Spin looked at him.

"If you do go to Hogwarts with Potter, you will need to stay hidden or else it will cause problems that I am not so sure that I can handle if they arise."

Spin bobbed his head and hissed. "He promises," Potter translated.

"Good. Now, I will take the kitchen and living room, you will take your room and the bathroom," Severus instructed.

"What?"

"The cleaning! Where you not listening? Keep up, Potter. Between the two of us, we should be done before we go to bed."

"Oh."

Severus pulled out his wand. "Let's start, shall we?"

.'.

Snape handed him a feather duster and a broom and shooed him up the stairs. He entered his room and set Spin down on the window sill.

He began with the bookcase. He pulled out the books one by one and dusted underneath them. He knew it was the longer way, but he didn't feel like taking them all out and putting them back up and possibly making a bigger mess.

He couldn't reach the top, so he stood precariously on a lower empty shelf. He moved Hedwig's cage, and after a moments thought, opened the door. He would open the window later to make it easier for her to get in if she came back that night.The desk and dresser was easier to clean since he didn't have to reach that high. They were both made for a kid his size or smaller.

He startled Spin out of his nap when he took the covers and sheets off his bed and shook them free of dust. He voiced his displeasure in very loud hisses with many vulgar words that definitely would have made Snape wash his mouth out with soap if Harry repeated them. He left the covers in a heap on the floor to be washed later.

After sweeping the floor and putting the dust in a little pile near the doorway, he bounced a bit on his now sheet-less bed and admired his hard work. The walls were still dusty, but he figured Snape could help him with that later.

'Very niccce. A lot better than before,' Spin commented, now wide awake. After Harry woke him, he had refused to go back to sleep in case he was roused again and instead watched Harry clean.

"Thanks."

He left Spin on the window sill and went down the stairs to find Snape. He was going to need some help cleaning the bathroom.

He stepped into the living room and stopped, gaping.

Snape was laying on the couch, a book covering his face. One arm was laying over his chest while the other was over the side of the couch, hand brushing the floor. One leg was sprawled over the back of the couch and the other was bent, a sock covered foot jammed against the arm rest. His wings were splayed behind him over the other arm rest. Light snores was coming from the man.

So it seemed Spin wasn't the only one who decided to take a short nap.

The entire living room was spotless, as was the kitchen. Plates were now on the dining table along with a flower vase center piece with one white lily.

Harry couldn't believe it. It took him nearly two hours to clean his room and it barely had much to clean. There was a lot of stuff to clean in the living room that would have taken nearly twice as long to clean, not to mention the extra hours from kitchen and dining room!

"How?" Harry breathed.

"Magic, obviously," came the slightly muffled voice of Snape from the couch.

Harry jumped. "You're awake? I thought you were asleep!"

Snape yawned. The book was still covering his face, which made him look funny when he did that. Snape sat up, removing the book from his face. His wings were ruffled a bit from the awkward angle they were in.

"I was. You tromping down the stairs woke me up."

Harry blushed slightly. He thought he was rather quiet going down the stairs, but apparently not.

"Sorry," Harry apologized.

Snape stretched. "S'fine," he said, yawning again. "Are you done with your room?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. I was just coming down to see if you could help me clean the bathroom."

"No need." He smoothed out his feathers. "I'll do it."

"But I want to help."

"You can help with lunch. You are experienced with cooking?" At Harry's nod, Snape stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in his dress shirt. "Good. There is a bit of canned food in the pantry and some vegetables and fruit from Hogwarts in the ice box. I do not own a House-Elf, so think of something to eat while I clean the bathroom." With that, Snape ascended the stairs, leaving Harry standing in the middle of the living room wondering what the heck a House-Elf was.

Harry moved to the kitchen and opened the pantry doors. Multiple cans of cream of chicken, cream of onion, canned salmon, broccoli and cheese soup and cream of celery stared back at him. He moved to the refrigerator where he found some strawberries, grapes, celery and carrots. A half-full carton of milk was on the top shelf.

He took the Broccoli and Cheese soup and the stalks of celery out. It would be a rather quick and easy meal. He only had to heat up the soup in the microwave and cut up the celery into chunks and mix it with the carrots.

When Snape came back down the stairs minutes later, Harry had already began the process of chopping up celery and putting the soup into bowls.

"Can you please put the bowls into the microwave? Thank you, sir" Harry asked, motioning towards the bowls of soup.

Snape picked up one of the bowls. "Cheese and Broccoli?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm. You like cheese and broccoli?"

"It wouldn't be my first choice, but it's doable. I'll eat it." Snape set the microwave time and went to the fridge. He peered in.

"We are definitely going shopping tomorrow," Harry could hear Snape mumble as he rummaged through the vegetable and fruit drawer.

He came back with some grapes and strawberries. "We can have this for dessert."

"Okay." The microwave beeped and Harry got a cloth and got the bowl out. He set the celery and fruit in the center on the table, setting the bowl down in front of his chair. Snape heated the other bowl and sat down in the other chair opposite of Harry.

They ate in silence, the only noise coming from the spoons hitting the side of the bowls and the crunch of the celery and carrots.

"So," Harry began, setting his spoon down, finished with his soup. "What are you going to shop for tomorrow? Are you going to Diagon Alley?"

Snape blew on his soup, holding up a finger in a 'just a moment' gesture. He ate his bite. "We are going shopping tomorrow. Yes, you are coming along, Potter, don't look so shocked. Along with food, you need more clothes and whatever else you need to keep you busy. Those...rags you have on will not do." Harry looked down at his oversized clothes and ratty sneakers. He thought they were fine, but then again, he liked anything he could get.

"We will not be going to Diagon Alley. We will be going to a Muggle shop in town, mainly for the reason that I do not wish to...be sociable...in case of the chance that people will recognize you."

"Oh. Okay. Thank you sir." Snape just grunted and finished his lunch.

After lunch, Snape instructed Harry to get his Potions book and quizzed him on the different ingredients and potions until it got dark. They ate the canned salmon and the rest of the fruit for supper and Harry retired up to his room.

Snape had apparently cleaned his sheets as well when he cleaned the bathroom because when Harry entered his room, his bed was made, the cover folded back for easy access.

He sat at his desk and read the children's books by the light of the lamp. He got through with most of them them rather quickly since they were so short. Snape was right. He was going to need something else to occupy his mind. As interesting as his school books were, he didn't think they would hold his interest for the rest of the summer.

Spin had curled around Harry's arm at some point and fell asleep. His arm felt tingly from being asleep, so he gingerly removed Spin and placed him on the desk. Hopefully Hedwig wouldn't eat him if she came in that night.

He opened the window for Hedwig then poked his head out the door.

"I'm going to bed, sir. Goodnight," he called. He heard Snape harrumph a goodnight from the living room below.

He kicked off his shoes and placed his glasses on the desk. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

='=

"Not Harry! Please, not Harry!" A woman with red hair was pleading, protecting her baby in the crib.

"Move out of the way, silly girl," said a cruel voice. The man was dressed in dark robes, making him blend in with the shadows. He held a wand at the woman's chest.

"No, please-"

"Avada Kadavra!" A bright green light shot from the wand, hitting the screaming woman who fell in a heap in front of the crib.

The shadow man who held the wand came closer to the crib and peered at the crying baby. "Now, for you. Avada Kadavra!"

='=

Harry woke just as the green light filled his dream. Cold sweat stuck to his body and he shivered, pulling the covers closer.

He heard a small hoot and looked at the bookcase. Hedwig was sitting on her perch in her cage, looking at him with a curious look.

"Hey, girl. You came back huh?" He closed the window and got out of bed. Hedwig fluttered down and landed on Harry's shoulder. She nipped at his wild hair in affection.

'Are you okay, Harry?' Spin hissed from his spot on the desk.

"I'm fine, Spin. It was just a bad dream. You can go back to sleep."

Spin nodded once. 'Tell your owl that I am not a sssnack. Ssshe tried to eat me when ssshe firssst came in.'

Harry turned to Hedwig. "Hey! Play nice. He's a friend. Don't eat him, okay? I kinda want him in one piece," he lightly chastised. Hedwig hooted her agreement then flew back to her perch.

Harry left his pets, grabbing his glasses, and went down the stairs and into the kitchen. He took the milk carton from the fridge and a small glass from the cabinet. He filled the glass halfway full with milk, put up the carton, and walked to the living room. He sat on the couch, looking into the empty fireplace.

What was that dream about? Harry couldn't shake the lingering feeling of dread. It had felt so real, as if he had been there. The woman with the red hair had looked a lot like the girl in the picture that Snape had given him, and Harry's heart sank. Could that had been his mother? He remembered what that Hermione girl had said the day before in Madame Malkins, how it was Voldemort that had killed his parents, not a car crash.

But how had she known that, and why had she have so much fear in her voice? He knew he was in a book, Hogwarts A Mystery or whatever, and that information surely was bound to be in there, but that didn't excuse the fear. He was dead, right? He wasn't going to return any time soon. The rumors of his return were just that, rumors. Why was she so afraid of rumors?

Shaking his head, he decided to write to Hermione the next day, before he and Snape went shopping. He would ask Snape as well about the rumors and about his parents. He did say he would answer questions, so Harry was going to use that to his advantage.

He finished the milk and set the glass in the sink. He walked up the stairs two at a time, the darkness behind him making his imagination go wild.

Harry stopped in front of Snape's room, fidgeting. He didn't want to return to his room, where it would be very dark and no curtains to cover the window. The dream had left a sense of fear in him that he couldn't shake, as if he expected to be ambushed at any time.

Should he just go back to his room? He didn't want to be a bother and to seem like a little kid. Plus, he didn't think Snape would appreciate being woken up at three in the morning.

He walked a step towards his own room, and stopped. Snape's door was cracked open. He mentally battled with himself, and finally, the fear of the dark won out. He quietly entered the room, making no noise whatsoever. Snape was curled into a ball on his bed, facing the door. Harry could see his large wings poking out the end of the covers.

Harry stopped, holding his breath. Was the man awake?

Snores came from the older man and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Snape was still asleep and hadn't heard Harry walk in.

Harry chose a spot on the floor near the wall. He curled up into his own little ball and fell asleep, not noticing the stare of Snape on his back.

Harry woke up on a soft bed, sunlight beaming down on his face. He snuffled into his pillow and rolled over, drawing the covers closer to his chin.

He felt comfortable, like he was laying on a cloud. It was peaceful, and Harry wanted nothing more than to go back to dream land and chase the good dream he was having.

Wait a moment.

He sat up.

This wasn't his bed. This wasn't even his room. Where was he?

He frantically tried to get out of the bed but only succeeded in tangling his legs in the covers and nearly falling out of the bed face first. He managed to untangle himself and sat up straighter. He didn't have his glasses on so the room was blurry, and he could hardly make out the shapes of the objects.

He groped around on the bedside table, searching. He finally found his glasses and put them on, and the whole room became clear.

There was a large closet directly opposite the bed and a bookcase beside the window. There was a table on either side of the bed and a dresser next to the door. A guitar rested beside the bookcase on a stand. A greyish blue rug was underneath the bed.

Large windows were to his right and the curtains were open, revealing the backyard and the small creek.The bed Harry was in was very large. Three of him could fit in it comfortably.

This must have been Snape's room. He didn't expect the man's room to be so...bright. He stretched, and a thought popped into his head. Instant mortification came over him and his face turned a bright red.   

Had Snape put him to bed? He blushed brighter. He must have looked like such a baby. Hopefully Snape had used some sort of magic to carry him, instead of picking him up.

The door opened and Snape stepped inside, still in his pajamas.

"I see you are awake," he said. Harry didn't know what to say to that, so he just nodded. "We need to leave at around ten. It is eight right now, so you need to hurry and get ready. I will lay out some clothes for you to wear. You will not be going in...that." Snape sneered at the clothes that Harry still had on.

"You remember where the bathroom is?" Harry nodded. "Good. Go and wash up." Harry hopped off the bed and went down the hall. He went to the restroom and stopped at the sink which was slightly too tall for him. Two toothbrushes, one black and the other blue, were in the holder and Harry reached for the blue one. He figured Snape's would be the black one, seeing as he seemed to own no other colors besides black and grey. He brushed his teeth, the toothpaste making his teeth feel cool and fresh, and washed his face. He had to hop a bit to reach the rag on the ring next to the mirror. He managed to reach it without any incidents and dried his face. He didn't want to use Snape's hairbrush, so he just ran his fingers through his hair, making it even more unruly than before. He smoothed down his feathers, which where sticking up every which way, matching his hair.

He walked back to Snape's room, feeling a lot better than when he woke up. He never really got a chance to wash up at the Dursley's, so he always felt greasy and icky the entire day, and when he did wash up, it was in the back yard with cold water from the hose. Snape was still digging in the closet when Harry walked in, his black wings the only thing poking out. Clothes were laid out on the bed, a red t-shirt and black cargo pants. Grey socks were rolled up beside the shirt.

Harry took the t-shirt and brought it up to his chest. The end of the shirt fell to his knees. This was going to be like a dress on him! Snape straightened, a pair of black sneakers in his hand.

"Sir, this would never fit!" Harry said, motioning towards the clothes.

"I know. Those are some of my old clothes. I will shrink them to fit you. You will be wearing those until we get you some better clothes." Harry blinked. Snape owned a red shirt?

"Put them on so I can shrink them to your size." Harry blanched. He was going to change in front of Snape?

Snape rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to look, silly boy. Just tell me when, and I will turn around." Harry nodded, feeling a bit better. Snape turned around, looking into the closet, hands in his pajama pants pockets. Harry turned around as well, facing the bedside table and quickly changed. As predicted, the shirt nearly fell off of his bony shoulders and the end fell below his knees. He had to hold the pants in place so they wouldn't fall. The socks were okay, but they were rolled up so high that they met with the shirt at his knees. He felt really silly, but turned back around, the cargo pants nearly falling despite his grip.

"Okay, sir. I'm done." Snape turned back around, and if he was amused by Harry's look, he didn't let it show. Instead, he tossed the shoes at Harry, who caught one, but fumbled with the other. This time, amusement did shine in the taller man's eyes, and Harry's cheeks grew pink. He slipped them on, which was no problem since his feet were three times smaller than Snape's.

Snape took out his wand and instantly Harry's clothes began to shrink. Even shrunk, the clothes were a bit big, but not as much to where they were falling off. An added bonus was they made Harry look around a normal size, instead of the super skinny that he was. His wings, like Snape's, magically poked out from his shirt. It was nice not having giant holes in the back of his shirt that let cold air in. He wiggled his toes in the shoes, marveling in the feeling of wearing shoes that actually fit.

Harry looked back towards Snape. "Thank you, sir!" He smiled.

"Don't thank me yet, Mr. Potter. We haven't even began shopping yet." Snape grabbed Harry's old clothes and rolled them into a ball.

"I'm going to burn these first chance I get," he mumbled to himself. He looked back at Harry.  "Leave. I'm going to change. I'll be down in a moment." Harry left Snape's room and walked to his. Spin was curled on the desk and Hedwig was asleep in her cage, her head under her wing. He moved Spin out of the way gently without waking him up and took out a sheet of paper. He scribbled with the quill for a moment, getting used to the new way of writing. He took out a new sheet and began writing his letter to Hermione.  

Dear Hermione,

This is Harry. You know, that boy you met in that clothes shop? I just wanted to ask some questions. I know I'm in that Hogwarts book that you mentioned, and no doubt that You-Know-Who's defeat was put in there as well, but why are you so afraid? He's not coming back. Those are just rumors, right? There's no reason to be afraid of rumors.
Also, I have picked up that Muggles can not se anything magical, or at least, without a magical person letting them. How did your parents (I guess those were your parents. They do look a rather lot like you) manage to get into Diagon Alley? Was there someone magical with you that I did not see? I'm just curious.

Anyway, those weird questions aside, how has your summer been so far?Mine has been great. I'm no longer with my Aunt and Uncle, thank God. I'm not going to go into details about that, but something awesome has happened. I got two pets! I now have a white owl that I have named Hedwig and a black water snake named Spin. Hedwig is amazing. She's so smart. I knew owls where the symbol for wisdom, and now I see why! Spin is great too, but all he does is sleep. I guess I would too if I didn't have anything to do. I know the letter says we can only have a toad, owl or cat, but I hope Dumbledore will let me bring Spin. He'll get so bored without me!

I can't wait for Hogwarts. I actually got to see it yesterday. I'm not going to give any spoilers, but it is amazing! You are definitely going to love it. I even got to see the dungeons! They're not as scary as I expected, but then again I only got to see one part.
The grounds are huge! It took a while to walk to the castle from the gates, but I'm sure that the students wouldn't mind as much, seeing as they're going to a freaking castle of magic!

I hope your summer continues to be good and I hope to talk to you again. You seem like a nice person.

                         -Harry P.

Harry set down his quill, clenching his hand. That much writing with the quill made his hand hurt. He didn't know how he was going to last all through Hogwarts writing with that.

He took his paper to Hedwig, ready to mail, then paused. How was he going to get it to Hermione? Surely Hedwig didn't know where Hermione lived, and there was no way Harry knew. Maybe he should ask Snape.

He walked out into the hallway just as Snape was coming out of his room. "Sir!" he said, waving the paper around. Snape looked at him and cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes?

  Harry smoothed out his paper. "I want to mail a letter to this girl that I met yesterday at Madam Malkins and..." Harry glared when he saw the amused expression on Snape's face.

  "A girl?" He had a tone of mischief in his voice.

"Not like that! We're just friends! And not even friends! We just met one time yesterday. Anyway, I just want to know how I can mail it. I don't know her address."

"Your owl should be able to mail it."

"How? Hedwig doesn't know where she lives."

A smirk appeared and disappeared just as quickly. "She's a magical owl. She will know where to go, no matter where the other person may be."

"That's neat!" Harry said and he ran back to his room, leaving Snape in the hallway. He whistled and Hedwig flew from her perch.

"Can you mail this for me, girl? Take it to Hermione Granger." Hedwig hooted and held out her leg. He tied the letter as best as he could to her leg and opened the door. She hopped from his shoulder onto the window sill and took flight.

He walked back to the living room. Snape was standing in front of the door, rummaging through his wallet. He had changed from his pajamas to a plain grey V-neck t-shirt and khaki cargo pants. He had a bandage wrapped around his left forearm and his black wings were tucked in tightly against his back.

Snape looked up when Harry walked down. "Are you ready to go?" he asked. Harry nodded.

"We'll be getting groceries and some new clothes. If you need or anything else, just ask."

"Okay. Sir?"

"Yes?"        

"How are we going to get there? Are we going to walk?"

Both eyebrows went up. "I certainly hope not. I have a car. We will be driving into town." Again, Snape surprised Harry. He certainly didn't think the man could drive, let alone own a car. Who knew.

As they walked to the garage, Harry played a bit with his wings. Snape grunted as he opened the heavy door. A black Mercedes convertible was parked, its hood down. Harry's jaw dropped. He didn't think Snape would drive this!

"Woah!"

 Snape seemed mildly proud. "This belonged to my father. He died a couple of years ago, so I got it along with the house," he said and got in the driver's side, which was on the opposite side of the car.

Harry gave Snape a confused look as he got in the passenger's seat on the right side. "Why is the car...?"

Snape turned the key in the ignition and it roared to life. "My father imported this car from America when he moved to England to marry my mother."

 "So you're-"

Snape rolled his eyes then casted a sidelong glance at Harry, effectively shutting him up. "Yes, I'm half-American. Don't act too shocked. I'm not going to be spurting out any 'dudes' or 'bros' anytime soon," he muttered. Harry snickered, imagining Snape with a surfer dude accent and a surfboard. Snape pushed down on the gas pedal and they zoomed out the garage. As soon as the wind hit Harry's face, a large grin spread.

He wanted nothing more than to spread his arms and wings and let the warm air flow over him, but he didn't fancy flying backwards out of the car. Instead, he let the adrenaline rush through him, his smile going even wider so much that it hurt.

So this is what it's like to fly! he thought and looked at Snape. Snape seemed to be enjoying the wind in his hair as well because a small smile was on his lips and he leaned his head back to let his long hair flow.

They passed by people walking their dogs or taking a stroll. Harry was still amazed that they couldn't see his wings. Magic was truly an amazing thing. One man with a giant Great Dane waved as they passed, and the dog barked energetically. Harry waved back, feeling truly happy for once in his life. He had felt something like this at Hogwarts, but not at this level.

They stopped in front of a large shopping center. Harry hopped out, missing the feel of the wind through his hair. He wanted to get back in and drive forever.

Snape grabbed a shopping cart and went inside, Harry right on his heels. Snape pulled out a list.

 "All right, Harry," Harry startled when Snape called him by name. "Go get the milk."

"You...you called me Harry," Harry said and gave Snape a confused look.

Snape rolled his eyes. "We are in a public place. It would seem weird if I started calling you Mr. Potter, wouldn't it?"

Harry blushed. "Oh."

 .'.

Severus watched Potter walk to the milk and dairy section, shaking his head. Honestly, that boy didn't make sense sometimes. He crossed out milk and looked at the next item on the list. Fruit.

He walked towards the fruit aisle, stopping next to the drinks along the way. He placed two twelve packs of soda, one Dr. Pepper and the other Mountain Dew, in the bottom of the buggy. It was his secret pleasure, one that not even Albus knew about. He loved the feel of the carbonated bubbles tickling his lips and the taste of the sugary drinks

He picked up fruit; apples, oranges, kiwis, strawberries, grapes, and bananas, and put them in the cart. Potter came back with a gallon of milk and tried to place it in the cart, but could barely lift it high enough to get over the rim of the cart. Severus gripped the milk by the handle and easily placed it next to the fruit, much to Potter's embarrassment.

They shopped for over two hours for groceries. They got more bread, canned goods, meats, cheeses, coffee, tea, and snacks. Plenty of food for the rest of the summer. Potter managed to plead his way into getting a pint of caramel ice cream, using his large green eyes as weapons against him, much to Severus' annoyance. They left the ice cream in the freezer, until after they were completely finished with shopping so it wouldn't melt. Finally, they finished the grocery shopping and went to buy clothes.

When they reached the clothes section, Potter suddenly faltered. He began to fiddle with his shirt and looked down at his feet.

"What is wrong, Harry?" Snape asked as nicely as he could. He was tired from shopping and wanted nothing more than to get out of there and lay down.

"You don't..." Potter mumbled, the end of his sentence too low for Severus to hear.

"Don't have to what? Buy you anything?" Potter nodded meekly. Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 "You didn't have a problem when Hagrid bought you things," Severus pointed out.

 "But that's different. I used my own money. You don't have to waste your money on me."

Severus wanted to smack his head on something. He had no problem with begging for a pint of ice cream, but when it came to stuff he actually needed, he suddenly clammed up and acted shy?

 "Mr. Potter," he began, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He ignored the odd look from an older woman passing by. "Whether you like it or not, I am buying you clothes. You're not going to wear my clothes for the rest of the summer, and what are you going to do for school? Certainly you are not going to wear your robes all day. That will just be silly and unnecessary. You need clothes, and it will not kill me to reach into my wallet and buy you necessary items. Believe it or not, I may actually want to provide you with something."

Potter's eyebrows went up in shock, and Severus turned and pretended to examine the multi-colored shirts hanging on the rack behind him. He didn't know why he said that, and he tried to ignore the odd feeling rising in his chest. He felt a pair of skinny arms wrap around his middle and looked down to see Potter hugging him with his face buried in his chest.

"Thank you, sir," the child mumbled.

Severus cleared his throat and pushed Potter off as nicely as possible. "You're welcome," he said, feeling slightly embarrassed.

For the next three hours, Severus picked out clothes and Potter would try them on. They picked out ten t-shirts, two jackets, three long sleeved shirts, five pairs of jeans, two pairs of tennis shoes, a pair of ear muffs and gloves, and eight pairs of socks. Potter tried to protest when Severus held out a pair of boots, but a look from Severus and Potter shut up and went to the changing room.

 With all the clothes and food items in the cart, the buggy was overflowing. Potter had to hold most of the shirts and the two jackets, which resulted in a large bundle that was nearly taller than the boy. Only the tips of his spikey hair could be seen poking up above the large pile. His knees wobbled a bit, trying to keep balanced with all the clothes swaying whichever way.

Finally, Severus stopped, making Potter bump into him. The pile swayed dangerously, and it looked like it took all of Potter's willpower not to fall with it. He grabbed the pile from Potter, placing it precariously with the otheritems in the cart.

 "Sir?" Potter asked, confused. "Why did you take my stuff?"

 "You can't carry all of that. You'd fall before we'd reach the checkout," Severus said as he moved the bread from underneath the clothes. It wouldn't do to squash the bread before they even checked it out.

"I'm fine, sir." Potter tried acting tough by puffing out his chest. Severus nearly laughed.  

"You may have been fine then, but we are on the complete other side of the store. You wouldn't have made it to the deli station." At the word deli, Potter's stomach rumbled, followed quickly by his own. He pretended to ignore it, but Potter giggled a bit.

He pointed to Potter, then at the cart. "You, stay here. I will go and get something for you to carry." He pointed at the cart again for emphasis, and walked past two aisles before looking back. Potter was still there, standing beside the shopping cart. He scuffed his shoe on the tile and fiddled with his hands, looking around. He spotted Severus looking and waved. Severus did a two-finger salute back, pleased. Good. He actually obeyed, although Severus had no doubt he would.

 Confident Potter would continue to obey orders and not wander off, he walked the rest of the way to the front of the store and grabbed a small, garishly yellow shopping basket, only looking back every once in a while. He didn't need someone snatching up The-Boy-Who-Lived. The lady at the desk asked him if he needed any help, and when he said no she went back to snapping her gum, a bored, hollow-eyed look coming back on her face.

 Severus felt a tingle go over his body, meaning something had happened. Potter had moved. He knew it. He had put a monitor spell on the boy when he wasn't looking, and now, warning bells were going off in his head.There was too many people in his way, so he couldn't see his buggy clearly as he walked closer. He tried to keep calm. He was just being paranoid. Potter was probably fine. He may have just went to the next aisle.

When he got to his buggy, his suspicions were true. Potter was gone.

 He checked the next aisle. He wasn't there. He checked the next two aisles down. Still no Potter.

 Was it Death Eaters? Did Potter accidentally Apparate? He willed himself to calm down, to stop his fluttering wings. He was overthinking it.

"Harry!" he called, hoping Potter was in an aisle near enough to hear. "Harry!" Where had that boy run off to? He had only turned his back for a second! Damn the Potter's reckless intuitions!

He went down every aisle, calling Potter's name. None of the other shoppers paid him notice, too busy with their own shopping to care. His wings fluttered even faster out of worry and anxiousness. He rounded a corner, knocking a shelf full of cookies down with his wings. With a subtle wave of his hand, the shelf turned upright.

He heard footsteps and turned around, bumping into someone else. Potter stood there, glasses askew, holding what looked like a bright neon green stuffed dinosaur. Severus looked down his nose at the boy and Potter gulped, stepping back.

 He resisted the urge to grab the boy and shake him for worrying him so much, but instead, he took a deep breath and with the calmest but most disappointed tone possible, he said "Just where, Mr. Potter, have you been?"

Potter fiddled with the stuffed dinosaur, trying not to look Severus in the eye. His glasses were still lopsided, so Severus fixed them with a quick spell. He asked again. "Well?"

"I saw these stuffed animals when we passed them and I just wanted to look. Honest!" He looked up, fear in his eyes. "I thought I could be at the buggy when you came back, but I got lost. I couldn't find it again." Potter was twisting the tail of the dinosaur so hard in his hands that it looked like the stuffing was about to burst from the seams.

Gently, as not to make the boy even more scared, he took the stuffed toy from Potter's hands. "Nevertheless," he said, holding the toy beside him. "You disobeyed my orders and strayed away from the cart. You could have gotten hurt, or worse, someone could have taken you. I was so sca-"

He stopped, snapping his mouth shut. He had barely known the boy for two days and already he was acting like a caring parent. This wasn't good. He tried again, starting over.

"You could have gotten hurt and how would that make you feel, being hurt over a stuffed dinosaur?" He waved the plush toy around. Potter's eyes welled with tears, and he looked scared, as if he was going to get hit.

"I'm sorry, sir!" the boy wailed. "I'm sorry! Please, I just wanted to look at it. I've never had a stuffed animal before and just-" he hiccupped, drawing in deep breaths. "Please, sir, don't punish me! I'll be good! Promise!" Other shoppers were looking at him now, glaring, as if he had slapped the boy.

 He slowly got to one knee to be at Potter's eye level and reached out a hand to his shoulder, but Potter flinched away, wings coming around to cover him. Severus quickly retreated his hand.  

"Silly boy, I'm not going to hurt you," he tried to reconcile the boy. He kept his voice low, soothing, making sure no Muggle could overhear. "Please move your wings, Harry. You're not in trouble."

 Slowly, Potter parted his wings, a tearful green eye looking through the feathers. "You promise you wont hurt me?" he mumbled.

 Severus held up his hands, palms outward. "I promise." Potter's wings fell, but the boy wouldn't look Severus in the eye. He held out the dinosaur to Potter, and the boy took it, eyes widening.

 "Show me where you found it," Severus said, still softly. Potter looked a bit dejected, but turned, making sure Severus was following, and went down the aisle, turning a corner. They passed two aisles then Potter turned to an aisle that made Severus' eyes want to bleed.

Brightly colored animals, even more than the dinosaur, lined the shelves. Toys and mats and coloring books were down one side, stuffed animals the other. Severus felt as if he was stepping into Zonko's Joke Shop as he walked down the aisle, accidentally stepping on a squeaky bear. Potter placed the dinosaur neatly beside other stuffed dinosaurs, rearranging them until he was pleased.     

 "I wanted to put it back the way I found it," Potter explained as Severus raised an eyebrow.

He took Potter gently by the shoulder and steered him out the aisle, heading towards their buggy. "Thank you for putting that up," he said. "Now, let's hope nobody tried to steal anything from our cart."

As it turned out, nobody did, for which Severus was grateful. He didn't feel like rampaging around the store again for more shirts. They paid for their items, Potter finally getting over the dinosaur, and headed for the car when both of their stomachs rumbled again. 

 "It seems we missed breakfast," Severus mused. He turned to Potter. "Where would you like to eat?"

 Potter thought for a moment. "Um, I saw this place in the store, next to the deli station. I think they were selling sandwiches."

Sandwiches wouldn't have been his first choice, but he was hungry, so who was he to complain? "All right. Sandwiches it is." He turned the cart around, pushing up the slope and tried to avoid bumps. The last thing he needed was everything to fall out.

The deli station was closer to the front than he remembered. Sure enough, just as Potter mentioned, there was a woman selling sandwiches, standing behind a table that advertised the many different meats they sold.

The woman's eyes lit up as they came closer. No doubt they were her first customers that day.

"Hello!" she said in a way too cheery mood. Her smile was so wide it made Severus' cheeks hurt for her. "What can I do for you today?"

Before Severus could open his mouth, Potter jumped in front of a pastrami sandwich with Swiss cheese.

"Are you selling these?" he asked, looking for the first time like the child he was. Of course Potter would act like this over a sandwich instead of the stuffed animal.

The woman chuckled, amused by Potter's antics. "Why yes, we are. Would you and your father like to try some?"

Severus felt his eyes go wide and tried not to let the shock show. "Ma'am, I believe you're mistaken, he isn't my-"

"Come on Dad. Pick one," Potter interrupted and winked, mischief in his voice. He held out a turkey with provolone and Severus sighed, taking it, but not without giving the brat a small glare as he did so.

"We'll take these, I suppose," he said, putting the appropriate amount of bills on the table. Potter grabbed his hand, waving at the lady, and dragged him to outside benches, where Potter swiftly unwrapped his sandwich and took a giant bite.

Severus was more slow unwrapping his and he actually savored his bite instead of eating three in rapid succession. He had to admit, the sandwich was rather good, a lot better than he had expected from a small stand. They usually tasted along the lines of sawdust with mayonnaise.

 As suspected, Potter finished his sandwich first and sat there swinging his legs, waiting on Severus. Severus studied the boy out of the corner of his eye as he ate. He had certainly come out of his shell in the past day, something Severus was slightly amazed by. He certainly had nothing to do with it. Merlin knows where Potter had found the reason to trust Severus so much, but Severus had to admit, if only to himself, that it felt rather good. Someone trusted him that wasn't under the influence of Dumbledore. That was a first.

Potter suddenly jumped up, looking alarmed. Severus nearly choked on his sandwich. He looked around, expecting to see men in masks come barreling towards them.

"What? What is it?" Severus quickly swallowed his sandwich and stood up, placing one of his giant wings in front of Potter. Potter shoved his wing away and turned to Severus with wide eyes. "We forgot the ice cream!"

For the second time that day in less than an hour, Severus tried to still his rapidly beating heart.

"Well then, why don't you go get it?" Severus asked coolly, trying to pretend that his near heart attack didn't happen.          

  "You'll let me get it by myself?" Potter asked, incredulous, eyes wide with disbelief. 

Severus tried to keep his face passive. "I hope that you have learned from the last experience. You're not going to be running away with it into the sunset are you?" Potter shook his head rapidly. "I thought not. Now, go get it. And come right back."

He handed Potter the appropriate amount of bills and watched as the boy ran inside the store, glee evident on his young face. He leaned his head back on the bench, rubbing his hand down his face, and groaned. Oh, it was only his second day with the boy, and already he was so tired. For the first time he actually wished for school. He would rather be teaching snot-nose brats than continue to babysit the Potter spawn. Why couldn't the school year come any faster?

 He heard the sound of a child giggling and cracked an eye open. A young boy, around four, was pulling his mother by the arm to their car, waving one of the neon dinosaurs around with his other hand. He noted it looked just like the one Potter had picked out.

"Thank you soooo much for the dino, Mamma!" he giggled, turning around and clutched it tightly to his chest.The mother smiled, making the child smile even wider, eyes shining. Severus felt guilt bubble in his chest, but quickly pushed it down.

Don't be stupid Severus. The boy will be just fine without the damn dinosaur, he thought.

But it was his birthday two days ago, and he didn't even get a present.  His conscience reared its head and Severus growled, getting odd looks from the woman and child.

 He glanced to the front of the store, calculating. The dairy section was quite a bit farther away from the door than the toy section. If he hurried, he could grab the dinosaur and be back before Potter paid for his ice cream. Then he realized what he was thinking and shook his head. Potter would be fine...

Quickly, before his inner voice could pipe up again, he got up and walked inside. He made sure to avoid the dairy section and headed over to the bright aisle that had the stuffed dinosaurs. He grabbed the bright green t-rex and speedwalked to the front counter. The man at the checkout smiled as he bagged his purchase.

"Is this for your son? I'm sure he will love it," the man said, giving Severus a knowing look. Without even bothering to correct the man, Severus quickly grabbed the bag, harrumphing a "thank you", and walked out the automatic door just as Potter came out of the dairy section, ice cream clutched in his hands. He placed the new item in the cart, making sure to cover it with other bags so Potter couldn't see the bright green that showed through the thin plastic.

Don't say that I never did anything good for you, Potter, Severus thought, sitting back down and crossing his legs.

Potter came skipping out of the store not a second later, a wide smile on his face. His copper wings fluttered with the wind, and he looked more happy than Severus had seen him so far.

And all over damn ice cream...

Potter stopped next to Severus, the damnable smile still etched on his face. He reached into his pocket and handed Severus the change.

"Thank you so much, sir! This is the best day of my life!" he exclaimed, looking like he was going to burst with happiness.

Severus gave an awkward "You're welcome," and pushed the cart to the car, where Potter insisted on holding the ice cream in his lap instead of putting it in the trunk with the other items. Potter was amazed by how all the items could seem to fit in such a small trunk, but Severus explained to him that he had put an enlarging charm in it, the same charm that wizards sometimes used on their tents when they went camping. He made sure that Potter wasn't looking when he put the dinosaur in the back, and quickly shut the lid before Potter could spot the bright green.

After five hours of standing on his feet and dealing with annoying customers in a sweaty store, Severus was about to cry with relief when he finally opened the door and sank down in the driver's seat. Honestly, it was worse than dealing with idiotic students for five hours. At least he knew what to expect. For the most part.

The ride back to his house wasn't unpleasant. At first. Potter seemed to enjoy the hood being down. He leaned his head back, letting his wild hair get more tousled with the wind blowing through it. His copper wings shone in the light, making them turn golden. For just a moment, he saw Lily, not the carbon copy of James Potter. His throat constricted, and he quickly turned back to the road.

"Sir?" Potter spoke up, breaking the silence between them. "What was my mother like?"

Severus nearly steered off the road. Did the damn boy know what he was thinking? He tried not to let his surprise show.

 "What?" he asked, hoping he had heard correctly.

Potter looked him in the eyes, looking for something. "What was my mother like, sir? You said you knew her. I mean, you two were friends weren't you? You should obviously know something about her."

 Severus had to gulp to keep from grimacing. Of course Potter would ask about his mother first thing. He had said he would answer questions, but he didn't expect this right off the bat! He supposed it was better than asking about the Dark Lord first, though.

"Your mother..." He trailed off, searching for the right words. How would someone go about talking about Lily Evans? Perfect? Smart? Caring?

 "Your mother was one of the best people I ever knew. She was understanding, and she cared for everyone, no matter who they were." Obviously, if she cared for you...

"She had a big heart, and stopped at nothing to make someone feel better. If someone was sick, she would stay by them until they got well again, even if it meant she got sick as well." He smiled, recalling a fond memory when he was ten, right before he got his Hogwarts letter. He was bedridden with sickness, and Lily practically lived with them the entire time until he got well, much to his father's annoyance. A week after he got better, she was sick with the same illness. He had felt bad, but he got to spend even more time with her than he usually would, and that made up for any illness he could have had.

"You have her eyes, you know." Potter gave him a wide eyed look, making Lily's green eyes shine. Severus looked away.

"You act a lot like her as well. Just from these two day alone, you have proved that..." He stopped, not wanting to say the last part out loud. 'That you're not just like your father.'

"You have proved that you are Lily's son," he tried instead, and his heart clenched. Potter seemed to mull the answer over.

"I've never heard Mum be described like that before," he said, going quiet. "Aunt Petunia and Aunt Marge called her and dad drunkards that got killed in a car crash."

Severus slammed on the brakes, making them both go flying forwards. If it wasn't for their seatbelts, they both would have sailed through the windshield.

"She said WHAT?" Severus yelled. He was vaguely aware of car horns honking behind them, but paid no attention to them. Damn Petunia! He was very tempted to go back to her house and...         

And, well, lets just say, he would be finding a very comfy cell in the local police department.

Potter looked shocked, as if not expecting Severus to have such an outburst. "I-I know its not true! Th-they were killed by You-Know-Who! I know that now! Don't get mad! Please..."

It took all of Severus' willpower to calm down. He was still breathing a bit heavily, and his hands were shaking when he clutched the wheel, but at least he didn't feel the need to murder anymore.

"Your Aunt Petunia was wrong," he ground out, his knuckles going white he was gripping the wheel so hard.

"Lily wasn't a drunk. She never even drank! She hated alcohol. She was the kindest, purest, sweetest person in the world, and your aunt is a black hearted bitch who..." He stopped, not trusting himself to go any further. Potter didn't seemed bothered by his outburst this time. If anything, he seemed to agree with Severus about his aunt.

 "Um, that's enough about my mum. Thank you for telling me about her. Can we uh...drive now?" Potter clutched his ice cream a bit tighter, looking behind him at the line of cars that were angrily waiting.

 Slowly, Severus pushed the gas pedal. He could hear the people behind them shout, finally happy that they were moving.

"Oh shut up, the lot of ya!" he called out behind him. One man flipped him off. If it wasn't for Potter being in the seat beside him, he would have gladly returned the gesture.  

They drove in silence for a whole minute, which Severus was still steaming, until Potter piped up. "Did you know my dad?" Severus tightened his grip on the wheel, trying not to growl at the thought of James Potter.

"No," he nearly spat. "I didn't know him well." That was a flat out lie, but as much as he wanted revenge on James Potter, he didn't want Potter to have a warped view of his father. Especially when he practically-okay, most definitely-gushed about his mother. "You're going to have to ask someone when you go to school. The teachers knew him well enough and I'm sure they would be more than happy to tell you some stories about him."

 Potter smiled. "Thank you, sir!"

They reached his house, and after parking the car in the garage, they brought bag after bag into the living room. Severus wasted no time in flicking his wand, making each bag unload itself and put the items in their respected place. The bags of Potter's clothes and his stuffed animal floated up the stairs and Severus could hear the squeak of the door as it opened to accommodate the items inside.

 He was just about to declare himself done and go to his room to take a nap when Potter opened his mouth again.

Oh dear Merlin what now? he thought as he reluctantly sat on the couch, supporting his head with his hand that was leaned against the arm.

"Why did You-Know-Who kill my parents?"

Severus blinked. Well then. He knew the boy was curious, but asking about your own parent's deaths so young was...well. He thought for a moment, trying to come up with something he could tell the boy. He couldn't tell the boy about the Prophecy. He was way too young and innocent for that.

Severus licked his lips. "It...was a time of war. Your parents were the main advocates for the Light side, and the Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, thought them dangerous. He thought they would be the one to thwart his plans Their friend at the time, Sirius Black, gave them away to the Dark Lord. They didn't know that their friend had given them away. He was their Secret Keeper you see, someone that is supposed to keep their whereabouts a secret. When the Dark Lord found out where you and your parents lived, he attacked. He tried to kill you, but for some reason, you survived and the Dark Lord was killed."

He looked at Potter's scar. "No one before had lived when the Dark Lord attacked, so naturally, when word got out that you not only had survived, but managed to defeat the most evil wizard at the same time, you became famous overnight. Your name was written everywhere, and still today you are revered as the Boy-Who-Lived, the child who single-handedly killed You-Know-Who at just a year old."

 There. He told the truth, mostly. It was close enough, he supposed. He left out the important bits, like how it was him who had told the Dark Lord the prophesy in the first place that made the Potters targets, but young Potter didn't need to know that right then.

"Then why are people still afraid of him? He's dead isn't he?" Potter asked, sitting down on the floor next to the couch and crossed his legs. Severus thought this was peculiar, since there was a chair not two feet away from the boy.

"The Dark Lord was a very powerful wizard. He had many followers that would do anything to bring him back, so there is a very good possibility that he could come back at any given moment." Severus tried not to grimace when he relayed that little bit of information.

"There are rumors that the Dark Lord hadn't truly died that night, and is searching for a way to come back. Even Muggleborns are warned of the danger when a teacher goes to explain to them about their heritage, although not many for fear that they wouldn't come to Hogwarts."

Potter seemed thoughtful. "Okay, sir. Thank you. It's just, ever since I came to the Wizarding World, nobody seemed to answer my questions. Hagrid kept switching the questions and Hermione gave me some answers, but she talked so fast I could barely understand her. And plus, she was confusing."

 "Well, I am glad I could provide you some answers. Now, I am tired and in a desperate need of a nap. I would advise you go upstairs and either do the same or keep yourself occupied until dinner." Severus stretched out on the couch, much like he had the day before, making his wings fold over the arm. Potter got up, dusting his pants, and tromped up the stairs. When he heard the click of the door closing, he closed his eyes.

.'.     

Harry mulled over the answers in his head as he walked up the stairs to his room. So that explained why Hermione had been scared when he asked about Voldemort. A teacher must had told her about him, and the information had probably scared her to death. It was a wonder she was still going to Hogwarts.

When he opened his room, he nearly tripped when Spin spun himself around Harry's leg.

'Where were you?' the black snake hissed, tightening his hold on Harry's leg.

"I went ssshopping with Sssnape.' he hissed back, grabbing Spin from his leg and wrapping him around his wrist. 'I needed now clothesss.'

'But sssurely clothesss ssshopping ssshouldn't take that long!'

Harry sat on the bed and began to rummage around in the bags. 'We alssso got groccceriessss.'

Spin gave him a glare that Snape would have been proud of. 'I thought you had left forever!'

Harry gave a hissing laugh. 'And why would I do that? I wouldn't leave my friend.'

Spin seemed to blink, if snakes could blink. The he turned his head and slithered to the desk lamp. 'Whatever.'

Harry laughed, then stopped short when he saw what was in the bag. He pulled out the stuffed dinosaur, turning it in his hand with wonder. When had Snape managed to get this? There was a small card in the bottom of the bag and Harry pulled it out.

Harry, it began in loopy handwriting.

This is for you. Happy late Birthday.

-S. Snape.

It was short. Harry turned it over to see if there was anything else. Nothing.

A warm fuzzy feeling filled his chest. Snape had given him a present! And he called him Harry on the card! Perhaps he could persuade Snape to continue calling him Harry instead of Potter. He quite liked it. It made him feel...loved. Although he could hardly expect to be loved by Snape, he could always hope. He did call him Dad in the store, but he was just kidding. Maybe...no. He shook his head. He didn't need to go down that road. For now, he was content with getting a present!

He placed the card on the table and as gently as possible, placed his new T-rex buddy on his pillow. He smiled. This really was the best day ever!

.'.     

A tall figure, dressed in uncharacteristic dark robes, stood on the lawn of Number Four Privet Drive, his long silver hair billowing in the wind.

After the report he had received of this house, he had to see for himself. To see if these people were truly as evil as they were reported to be. Hopefully not, but he trusted his advisor, and knew the man would not lie on something so important.

 Silently, he walked across the lawn to the front door, barely bending the grass blades as he stepped. He knocked on the door, then clasped his hands behind his back. He put on his famous Grandfatherly twinkle. This visit would be over quickly.

No sooner had he clasped his hands, the door opened, revealing a large walrus of a man.          

"Yes? Who are you?" The man-Vernon Dursley, if Albus had to guess-said, squinting his eyes at his attire.

"Hello, Mr. Dursley. My name is Albus Dumbledore and I-"

"You!" the man yelled, his face going an impressive shade of purple. "How dare you come here! After dropping that brat on our doorstep, leaving only a letter, making us pay and feed the freak, you think you can just waltz in here like you own this place? Well, let me tell you, your kind is not allowed here. I already had one come, and I am letting no more! You lot cause nothing but trouble!"

Well, that certainly answered some questions Albus had. He tried a different approach.

"Mr. Dursley, I am just here on some Hogwarts business then I assure you, I will leave you and your family alone. Now, would you mind letting me in? You wouldn't want to cause a spectacle for your neighbors, would you?" he said, and began to fiddle with his wand. 

Mr. Dursley narrowed his eyes at the ivory wand, grumbling something inappropriate, but stepped aside. Albus smiled, wiping his boots on the welcome mat before stepping around the large man. The house was practically spotless when he walked in. Antiques that lined the shelves sparkled with such shine that it nearly blinded the old wizard. Many pictures depicting a small, squat blonde boy hung in the wall. There was no pictures of young Harry to be seen.

Quite curious....

"What a lovely house you have here, Mr. Dursley," Albus commented as he went into the living room. With a wave of his wand, a large, squishy purple chair materialized before him, and he happily sank into its soft cushion. Mr. Dursley seemed irritated by this, but he didn't say anything.

"Do you mind if I have some tea? Two sugars with a wedge of lemon, please."  Mr. Dursley glared, but went to the kitchen, most likely out of fear than hospitality.

As soon as Dursley left, Albus dropped his nice Grandfatherly look. His eyes became a calculating, piercing blue. He stretched his senses, his wings vibrating with the effort. There were two other people in the house's vicinity, most likely Petunia and the boy that was on the wall. They didn't seem to know that there was another person in their house. He stretched them out further, looking for what he called a Memory Ribbon.

Albus Dumbledore had the very rare ability to see into the past. Unlike Seekers, there were few who, instead of prophesying the future, can tell a person's past by connecting that person to an item or place. If they find Memory Ribbons, usually little streaks of light blue-white aura, they can dive into it and see what happened around that certain place. It was much like using Legimency or a Pensieve, but more freelance.

His senses stretched over the entire house. There was Mr. Dursley in the kitchen, making his tea. Petunia was moving outside, hedge clippers in hand, and the boy in his room, playing on some Muggle electronic device. Streaks of dark red filled his vision, meaning that there definitely was evil in the house. Red surrounded Vernon Dursley, while Petunia was more orange. The boy had a purple aura, cruel, but not hideously so. He still had a conscience of what was right and wrong.

There was no blue aura to be seen. This was bad. Blue mean there was purity and Light. Without it, the balance of Dark and Light would be disrupted. Most likely, young Harry was their only source of blue aura. With him gone, there was no telling how much more cruel the Dursleys could get. He searched the entire house, hoping to find a Memory Ribbon.

Come out where ever you are...Aha!

There! Right next to the cupboard under the stairs. He remembered Severus telling him how he thought young Harry had been locked away in the cupboard when he misbehaved. Before he could tap into the light aura, Vernon Dursley came back, thrusting his tea in his face, nearly sending the liquid sloshing over. His Grandfatherly look came back full force.

"Why thank you so much, Mr. Dursley," Albus said, smiling as he took the cup. Mr. Dursley just grunted in response. He sipped his tea for a bit, slurping on purpose. He might as well make it fun. And the shades of purple that Dursley could make were quite amusing. He was sure he hadn't seen at least three of the shades.

He let his eyes travel around the room as he drank. The stairs were fairly close to the living room. There was a rather large crack in the wall next to the stairs. Albus had to suppress his laugh. Severus really should learn to keep his temper.

"So," Dursley drawled, interrupting Albus' thoughts. "Why are you here? And don't give me that school business bullshit. I can tell when people are lying."

"Well, I wasn't really lying. It is on school business. A future student used to live here-"

"Don't. Utter. Another. Word." Dursley growled. Albus calmly set his cup back down on its saucer.

"We already had one come here because of that brat! We don't need another!"

"I assure you, Mr. Dursley, that this time there will be no," he let his gaze travel to the large crack, "incidents, if you keep your cool and let me talk." Albus' eyes shone with amusement, and Dursley flushed a bright red.  

"Now, I need to ask you some questions regarding Harry's stay here for the last ten years."

"Like hell I'll let you interrogate me you devil-spawn freak," Dursley shouted, standing up so quickly from the couch that the table in front nearly topple over. Albus' eyes glittered dangerously.

 "I would keep my temper if I were you, Mr. Dursley," Albus warned, his voice low and sharp as ice.

"Or what? You'll wave your little tree stick?" the bigger man taunted.

Albus said nothing, but swished his "tree stick", and Dursley fell back down on the couch, stuck. Tape flew from the next room and a strip dislocated itself and covered his mouth.

"Yes. Yes I will." Albus smiled, but it was nothing like the smiles he gave his students. This smile was downright evil, and Dursley's eyes widened in fear. There was a reason Voldemort feared him.

He didn't really want to resort to restraint, but if Dursley wouldn't hear him out, it was the only solution. He closed his eyes, trying to find the Memory Ribbon from before. He would get more answers from the ribbon than from Dursley.

It was right where he last saw it, floating next to the staircase. He tapped into its energy, and instantly images appeared. It was like watching a Muggle television. Scenes of Harry being forcefully shoved, hit and threatened flashed before his eyes. The boy from the pictures continuously tromped down the stairs, making dust and spiders fall on the poor boy beneath. Harry sweeping, dusting, and cleaning each individual stair. Promises of no food for weeks. Belts, frying pans, metal rods, anything the Dursley's could get their hands on being thrown at Harry. Harry starving, Harry crying, Harry broken and hurt...

He quickly opened his eyes, effectively severing the connection with the Memory Ribbon. He leveled a cool glare in Dursley's direction that would have made Voldemort himself take a few steps back. Dursley gulped. Albus could feel his magic lashing out, crackling over his body. Even though he knew Dursley couldn't see, his large blue wings were spread out, making him look downright terrifying. Electricity crackled over them, and his teacup shattered. Windows were rattling, and it took all of his willpower not to let his magic go. He knew Dursley would not survive if he did. As tempting as it was, he would not lose control. He did not need to do it again. Not after the last parent he had interrogated...         

He stood over Dursley, murder clear in his eyes, but it was a threat he would not play out. Dursley whimpered.

"Let this be a warning, Dursley," Albus growled. He held out his arm and the telephone flew into his outstretched hand. He dialed for the police. As much as he wanted to make Dursley nothing more than a grease spot on the rug, he knew calling the police was a better option. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of finishing him off, but at least Dursley could think of what he did as he rotted in a cell. Petunia would no doubt go to trial as well, and the boy to an orphanage or to a next of kin that could take him in.

After calling the police, he waved his wand again, making Dursley flinch. The spells undid themselves, but Dursley stayed right where he was, frozen in fear. With one last glare, he walked out, hearing police sirens. He gave his report, glamored as an elderly man down the street. He may have used a few spells to help him get his way, and as the Dursley's were carted off in the cars, he had to smile.

The Dursley's should have never, ever, messed with Albus Dumbledore.  

"Severus? Severus, are you here? I have something for you!" a female voice called out from the fireplace. Harry looked up from his Sherlock Holmes book, confused. Who could be here at seven o'clock at night?

"Severus?" the woman's voice came again. Whoever it was, they wouldn't find Snape in the living room. About an hour after falling asleep, he had ungracefully rolled over off the couch and onto the carpet. Deciding not to risk falling off again, he had made his way slowly to his room and hadn't come out since. Harry never could have thought that a man like Snape, who looked so graceful, could be anything but.

He bookmarked the page, using the small card that Snape had given him with his present to place between the pages, and poked his head out his door. Spin hissed sleepily at him and Harry put his finger to his lips, shushing the half-awake snake.

Quietly, he tiptoed to the stairs, placing himself as close against the wall as he could. An older lady was standing in the middle of the living room, one hand on her hip and the other holding what looked like a small ball of black fluff. She wore wizard robes, and had on a large brown pointy hat. Her large wings were a dark brown, nearly black, at the top, and slowly faded until the tips of her wings looked like they were soaked in bright golden honey. They were honestly the most beautiful wings Harry had seen so far, and that was saying something, since he had believed his mother's to be the most beautiful.

The woman turned her head his way, and Harry quickly brought his head back, but too late. He knew the woman had seen him.

"Hello, dear. Do you know where Severus is?" the woman asked him, peering up the stairs. Harry gripped his wand in his pocket, but even if he tried to use it, he knew it wouldn't work. The most he could do was poke her with it.

"He's um, asleep right now," Harry replied then instantly regretted it. What if she was some evil person? One of those Death Eaters or whatever that Snape had warned him about? They could easily take advantage of the older man being asleep and attack him. But looking at her again, she didn't seem evil. If anything, she seemed familiar. As Harry stared, he knew he recognized her from somewhere, he just couldn't place it.

The woman looked shocked, then schooled her features. "Asleep? This early? That is so unlike Severus."

"We uh, went shopping earlier today. I think he was tired from that." As he talked, Harry slowly inched his way down the stairs, keeping his eyes on the woman the entire time. If he needed to remember her, he had to get closer.

The woman seemed amused. "Oh, really? I never pictured Severus for the shopping type." Her hand on her hip came to rest on the top of the small ball of fluff, which Harry realized was not a ball at all, but a small black kitten.

"He was mainly doing it for me. I needed clothes and stuff for school. Plus, we were almost out of food." Now Harry was almost right in front of the woman. She didn't seem keen to attacking him, so he let his guard down. But only a little. If he needed to, just a simple yell would have Snape come tumbling down the steps to help him.

"And who are you, dear child? I don't recall Severus having a son," the woman asked, and Harry realized she hadn't noticed his scar yet. He quickly brushed his bangs over it more, just in case she did.

"U-um..." Harry tried to think of a name, something that would sound realistic.

The woman's eyes widened. "Goodness! You're Harry Potter." Darn. He didn't hide his scar well enough.

"Why didn't I notice before? You look just like your father." Harry blinked, shocked. He looked like his dad? No one had ever told him that before.

"Who are you?" Harry asked.

The woman smiled, looking a bit sad. "I'm Minerva McGonagall, Harry. I'm a teacher at Hogwarts. I taught both of your parents, and was a close friend with them, both throughout their school years and after."

A breeze wafted under his nose, and with it came the scent of roses and honey. He looked up at McGonagall, surprised. A memory wiggled its way forward to the front of his mind.

//"Say goodbye to Grammy Min, Harry," a warm voice said, and grabbed one of his chubby arms and waved it. A kind older face, smelling of roses and honey, filled his vision, and he giggled, reaching for the brim of her pointy hat. The older lady laughed, tickling his tummy. She kissed his forehead, laughter in her eyes.

"Goodbye, kitten," she said, kissing the top of his nose. She made raspberry noises, making Harry giggle louder. He waved his arms around, babbling, as she walked out the front door.

"Bah bah! Bah bah!"

He could hear his mother's chuckle vibbrate throughout her entire body as Grammy Min leaned back in the door for one last wave and wink.//

"Grammy Min?" he whispered, narrowing his eyes, finally placing where he had seen her before. McGonagall's face lit up, and Harry couldn't help smiling as well. She enveloped him in a hug and placed her head on top of his, squeezing hard. He heard the kitten mewl in protest.

"Oh, Harry. You remember!" She held him away at arms length with one hand on his shoulder, looking him up and down. The black kitten decided enough was enough and began crawling up her arm to her shoulder. "You've grown so much," she said, sounding like a proud mother. She frowned for a moment, no doubt noticing how skinny he was, but didn't comment.

"Potter? Who's there?" Harry could see Snape's head poke out his door at the top of the stairs. His hair was tousled and he still looked half asleep.

"Um, someone named Minerva McGonagall?" Harry said, looking back at the elder woman. She winked.

He heard Snape mumble something that sounded like "Fuck...why...here...already seven o' clock?...haven't even started dinner..." Then he heard rustling, which he assumed was Snape trying to find clothes. "Tell Minerva I'll be right down!" he called.

Harry looked at McGonagall. "He'll be down in a moment," he relayed, even though he knew she heard. McGonagall nodded and moved to the couch, taking the kitten off her shoulder as she walked. She sat down, crossing her ankles and waited for Harry to sit in the chair opposite before turning her attention to the kitten, who was pawing at her robes.

"Oh, be still you!" she chastised, but didn't sound angry. She looked up at Harry. "Would you like to hold him, Harry?"

Before Harry could give an answer, she picked up the kitten and placed it in his lap. It looked up at him with large grey-blue eyes and mewled. Harry's heart melted at the adorable sound. He picked it up, cradling it to his chest. It was so tiny, it could easily fit into one of his hands.

"What's his name?" he asked, playing with one of the kitten's velvety soft ears.

"He doesn't have one yet. I was hoping Severus would help me with that." McGonagall leaned back against the couch cushions, draping her giant wings over the back and clasped her hands together.

Harry looked up. "Why do you want Snape's help?"

McGonagall smiled a bit evilly. "You'll see."

At that moment, Snape came stumbling down the stairs, socks two different colors and his shirt on backwards.  His wings were even more wild than Harry's hair, and that was saying something. Again, Harry had to wonder how Snape could be so ungraceful when he acted so...regal.

Snape plopped down in the other chair, looking like he was about to fall asleep again. He slowly turned his head to Harry, his eyes half-opened. "Why do you have a kitten?" he asked in the most monotone voice ever.

Harry wanted to laugh. Never did he think he would see this side of the man, and it was only his second day living with him!

McGonagall answered for him. "Because, Severus. I brought him over to see if you could...help me find someone who wants him."

Despite Harry telling Snape that she had come over not five minutes earlier, Snape seemed surprised to see McGonagall sitting on his couch. "Hullo, Minerva," he said, completely ignoring what she said. Harry cracked a smile and even McGonagall seemed amused.

Snape stared straight ahead, looking lost in thought. "I need to make dinner," he mumbled, then got up, albeit a bit slowly, and began shuffling to the kitchen. Harry turned to McGonagall, who had laughter shining in her hazel eyes.

"Is he usually like this when he first wakes up?" he asked. She had said she was a professor at Hogwarts, and she obviously knew Snape well. Perhaps she would know.

McGonagall snickered, which looked out of place on her stern face. "He's usually worse. You should see him at the morning teacher conferences." She laughed again, obviously remembering something. Harry raised an eyebrow, hoping she would go further, but before he could question on it, a loud crash came from the kitchen, making the kitten jump in Harry's lap and dig his claws in his leg.  

"Ouch! What was that?" Harry asked, placing the cat on the chair. He ran to the kitchen, McGonagall hot on his heels. Snape was standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring down a pot that had fallen on the floor and was rolling on its side. He looked up as they walked in and shrugged, as if to say "I don't know how that got there'.

McGonagall took one look, placed her hand over her eyes, obviously tickled, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "Severus, I swear to Merlin you are a two year old sometimes," she said, shaking her head.  Snape looked a bit miffed, but a huge yawn broke the look and McGonagall chuckled, walking over and picked up the pot.

She pointed to the dining room table. "Go sit down. I'll make dinner." Snape opened his mouth as if to argue, but one look from McGonagall made him snap his mouth shut and sullenly walk to the table, his socked feet nearly sliding across the tile. He reached the table and sat in the chair, making the legs squeak across the floor, and placed his ruffled head in his arms. Harry watched all of this in amusement and wonder. Who was she to Snape to make him do something without him snapping her head off? As he walked over to McGonagall with the intention of helping, he chalked it up to the fact that she was older, and that Snape was obviously very tired.

"How long 'till he officially wakes up?" he whispered, as he handed McGonagall the spaghetti noodles she motioned for.

"About thirty minutes," she replied, snapping the noodles in half. With a swish of her wand, the spaghetti began to make itself. McGonagall seemed satisfied, placing her wand back into her robes, and turned to lean against the sink counter. Her hat fell in front of her eyes, and she took it off. She turned to Snape, aiming, her tongue poking out a bit, and with a flick of her wrist, sent the garment flying straight onto Snape's head. He looked up, confused, then snatched the hat off his head, sending a glare in McGonagall's direction before setting the hat down and plopping his head back on his arms.

Harry couldn't help it. He laughed. He laughed so hard, his middle hurt and his face felt like it was going to split in two from smiling so wide. It was so amusing! He wanted the little show between Snape and McGonagall to go on forever, but he knew it wouldn't last. Snape would wake up fully eventually.

A small 'mew' drew his attention from the duo and he looked down. The small black kitten sat on his haunches, looking up at Harry with it's big stormy eyes. Harry bent down and scooped the kitten up in his hands. The kitten pawed at his glasses and Harry laughed again, making his stomach ache twinge again.

McGonagall watched Harry play with the kitten, a small smile softening her stern features. "Harry," she said. "Would you like to have the kitten?" Before Harry could open his mouth to decline, he already had two pets and he didn't need another, Snape popped his head back up. "Absolutely not!" he bellowed, making Harry and McGonagall jump.

McGonagall huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "And why ever not, Severus? The boy needs a pet for Hogwarts, doesn't he?"

"Well, you see Grammy Min, I already have two pets. I have an owl and a snake. I don't need a cat. Plus, Hedwig might eat him," Harry said, looking down at the small cat. His eyes slid over to Snape, who was in a glaring match with McGonagall. An idea popped into his head and a downright devious smile overcame him. "But..."

He walked over to Snape and placed the kitten in the middle of his lap. Instantly, the small fluff ball crawled up Snape's shirt, making the older man wince slightly, and settled himself on Snape's shoulder, where he proceeded to lick his cheek multiple time, giving off a small purr. McGonagall smiled, putting her hand over her mouth, and Snape sent Harry a small, unamused glare. He took the kitten by the scruff and placed him on the floor by his feet. "No," was his simple reply.

"Aw, come on, sir! He obviously loves you!" Harry pleaded, batting his eyelashes for good measure.

Snape looked at him, then looked down at the cat, who was giving Snape his own large watery-eyed stare. His face softened. For a moment, Harry thought Snape might reconsider and take the kitten. Then Snape looked Harry dead in the eyes, and with the most straight face possible, said "No".

Harry rolled his eyes and groaned. Before he could plead further, McGonagall clapped her hands together, drawing both of their attention. Plates began to fly from the shelves and the spaghetti flew from the pot, placing itself onto the three plates. They floated behind her and as she sat down directly across from Harry, one was placed in front of each of them. Glasses soared from the cabinets and were filled with milk before floating down beside the plates.

"Dinner is served," she said with a smirk.

Harry wasted no time in digging in, not even letting the hot noodles cool down as he slurped and chomped, receiving a disgusted glare from man beside him. McGonagall gave Harry a stern look over the rim of her glasses, then began to eat her own spaghetti. Harry slowed his attack on his noodles and took a sip from his glass of milk, feeling his face heat up.

"This is really good, Grammy Min," Harry commented as he speared at meatball with his fork and brought it to his mouth.

McGonagall gave Harry a small smile. "Thank you, Harry. I got the recipe from the House Elves at Hogwarts."

"House Elves?" Harry asked.

McGonagall waved away his question. "I'll explain later, Harry. That's not really a conversation to have over dinner."

Harry nodded, accepting that answer. The kitten pawed at his leg, wanting attention. Harry gently nudged it away with his foot.

"Why do you need my help finding it a home, Minerva?" Snape asked as he too nudged away the clingy kitten.

"I managed to get rid of all of Athena's kittens except this one. No one seems to want him." She picked up the mewling cat, and moved it away from the table.

"And you think my help will be sufficient?" He raised an eyebrow at the older lady.

She shrugged. "I know there are a lot of people in this area who might want one, and you know them better than I do. I was hoping you can talk to them, see if someone would be willing to take him in."

Snape sighed, rolling his last meatball across the plate. "I'll see what I can do."

McGonagall smiled wide and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Thank you, Severus." She turned to Harry.

"So, Harry. How good are your flying skills? If you are anything like your father, you should be a natural."

Harry looked at her a bit sheepish. "Um, well you see Grammy Min, I haven't really tried to fly yet. I almost did, but then Snape stopped me."

McGonagall shot Snape an exasperated look.

Snape scowled a bit. "He was about to fly indoors! I wasn't going to let him fly around and possible get hurt!"

Harry felt himself blush a bit, at both the harshness of the words and also the underlying tone of worry. McGonagall clicked her tongue.

"Well, you are going to have to learn to fly soon. If you ever try out for the Quidditch team at Hogwarts, it's a necessity."

Harry looked at her excitedly. He had read a bit about Quidditch in one of his school books earlier that day, and it sounded like one of the best things ever!

Snape harrumphed. "Who says he's going to play Quidditch? He can't even join his first year."

McGonagall opened her mouth to argue, but Harry cut in. "I want to try out for Quidditch! It sounds amazing! Even if I can't try out for my first year, I want to get a head start."

McGonagall looked smugly at Snape. "See, Severus? Harry would like to try."

Snape folded his arms over his chest, looking displeased. McGonagall leaned over the table, looking slightly excited herself.

"Well then, Harry. How would you like it if I came back over tomorrow, seeing that I have a free day, and teach you how to fly? That way, once you get the hang of it, I can start you on the basics of Quidditch."

Harry nodded rapidly. "That sounds amazing, Grammy Min!"

McGonagall winked. "Atta boy! I can already tell you'll make an amazing flyer, if your father's genes have anything to say about it!"

Harry beamed brightly. Her words made a warm sensation run through his body and as they finished their dinner, he couldn't keep his large smile off his face.

McGonagall finished her plate, then politely excused herself. "I must be leaving now, Severus, Harry. I have a lot of paperwork that I need to finish before it gets too late."

Snape got up, shaking her hand. "It was a pleasure to have you here, Minerva. I suppose I'll see you again tomorrow."

McGonagall turned to Harry and opened her arms, which Harry gladly fell into. Her hug was tight and warm, and got even better when she wrapped her large wings around him, which he returned with his own wings.

"I'll be back tomorrow, Harry. Be prepared to start flying early in the morning!" She waved, the left through the Floo. 

It was only after she had left that Snape realized that she had conveniently forgotten the kitten. he grumbled and picked up the ball of fluff, walking to the living room where he plopped it down on the couch. The kitten mewled, and tried to climb up his arm, but Snape shook it off.

"Are you going to keep it, sir?" Harry asked, sitting down next to the cat and stroked it's dark fur.

"Absolutely not," Snape huffed, and sat down in his armchair.

"Why?" Harry placed the cat on his lap and let it play with a loose feather from his wings.

"I don't want a pet. Is that simple enough?"

Harry nodded. "So what are you going to do with it? I don't think Grammy Min wants him back."

"I'll find somebody around here that might want to take it."

"I hope I'll get to see him again," Harry mused aloud as he let the kitten gnaw on his pinkie.

"Oh, I'm sure you will," Snape said, turning on the television to the news channel.

Harry's head shot up. "Why?"

"Because I think I know who I'm going to give the kitten to."

Harry cocked his head sideways, curious. "Who?"

Snape smirked slightly, a knowing look in his eyes. "Your grandparents." 

Harry paused in playing with the kitten. "My grandparents?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Snape nodded. "They live not far from here, just a couple of blocks away. They're your mother's parents."

"Can we go see them?" The question blurted out before he could stop himself, and he leaned forward eagerly.

Snape switched channels. "I don't see why not. They're your grandparents after all. But we'll have to call them first. They really don't like unexpected visits, although I'm sure they wouldn't mind if it was you."

Harry bounced up and down on the couch, the little kitten jumping with him. "Really? We can go see them?"

"Did you not just hear me?" Snape snapped sharply, but quickly softened his tone. "I said yes. Perhaps sometime this week. I'll contact them tomorrow."

"Thank you, thank you, sir!" Harry hugged Snape tightly before he could stop himself. The other man stiffened at the surprise touch, but relaxed a little, patting Harry awkwardly on the head.

"You're welcome," Snape said, clearing his throat.

Snape looked at the clock, then clicked his tongue.

"It's nine o'clock. It's past your bedtime, Potter. Hurry up and get ready. You'll need to be up early for Minerva when she shows."

Harry gave a slight whine, but headed towards his room. He grabbed the kitten, hugging him close.

"I'm taking him with me," Harry said.

Snape raised both eyebrows in slight surprise, but otherwise didn't stop Harry. "Good luck," was all he said.

Confused at the man's words, Harry simply whispered a small "Goodnight" and took the steps two at a time to his room. He placed the kitten on his bed and shimmied under the covers, getting comfortable.

‘Who isss that?' Spin hissed at him as he walked in. He was looking at the kitten with a mixed look of surprise and slight horror. Or at least Harry thought he was. He wasn't fully sure what the snake's emotions looked like quite yet.

"This is a kitten that someone gave to me. Don't worry, he'll be gone soon." Ignoring the confused hiss from Spin, Harry placed his glasses on the table and clicked off the switch on his lamp. He brought the kitten, which he had secretly named Hades, up to his chest and stroked his soft fur. He yawned once, and quickly fell asleep.

-'-

Later, Harry really regretted bringing the kitten to his room. Hedwig had woken up and spotted the kitten, now she wouldn't stop fluffing up her feathers and doing a weird hop on top of the dresser. Hades had arched his back and was making hissing noises while his ears were laying flat against his skull. Spin just watched with an air of indifference, turning away from the staredown to curl up on the corner of the table.

Harry groaned and rolled over, but Hades wouldn't shut up, so he grabbed the kitten by the scruff, and with great reluctance, got out of bed to put the kitten outside. He was going to shut the door, ignoring the kitten's big, round, pleading eyes to be let back in, when he heard voices coming from the living room. He froze, wondering whether he should investigate or go back to bed. Curiosity won out and as silently as he could, he tiptoed down the stairs, moving Hades out of the way when the cat wove around his ankles. He got to the bottom of the stairs, and held his breath, listening.

"A Parselmouth, you say, Severus? That's very interesting. Do you suppose Voldemort could have something to do with it?" an older voice asked.

"I have no idea, Headmaster. That subject isn't really in my area of expertise. All I know is that Potter somehow managed to befriend a snake, and now wants to bring it to school as a pet. He already has an owl--a little gift from Hagrid for his birthday--and I just don't know how the student body will react to the Boy-Who-Lived owning a snake as well," he heard Snape's voice reply.

A sound of someone sipping from a cup reached his ears then the older voice spoke. "Ah, yes, I've heard about Potter's little pet. Hedwig, I believe Hagrid said her name was. Well, it certainly would be bit of a problem if they found out Harry had two pets instead of one, especially if the other isn't even a pet on the school list!" A small chuckle and another sip from the cup. "Everyone would be asking to bring another, and no doubt it would quickly get out of hand. I don't know about that one, Severus. I'll have to think about it."

A sigh from Snape. "As you wish, Headmaster. I was just relaying the message. Potter was very adamant about taking him."

Harry could hear an amused hum come from the other man. "You've grown to care for him, haven't you, Severus?"

Snape sputtered. "Me? I-I..."

"Don't try to lie to me, Severus. I can see it all over your face."

A pause of silence filled the room. "Perhaps a little."

Harry held in a gasp. Snape cared for him? Him? He thought the man hated him, or at the very least barely tolerated him. But now that he thought about it, Snape had begun to act very different from when he first met Harry. Could it be that he was telling the truth? Harry didn't know what to think of that. Nobody had ever care for him before. Why would someone start now, especially someone he had just met not three days ago? It just didn't make sense.

"How  did you deal with Potter's relatives?" Harry's ears perked up at the mention of his aunt and uncle.

"You're changing the subject, Severus."

"Just answer the question, Headmaster."

Harry could tell the other man was very amused and reluctant to change the subject as he answered, but quelled Snape's curiosity. "Well, let's just say that they will not be bothering young Harry ever again and that his cousin will be going to a better family."

"They went to jail, then? Or did you manage to lose control over your powers again? I hope there wasn't a repeat of when you interviewed my father."

"Of course not. I'm shocked you have such little faith in me, Severus. They went to jail. They should have gone to Azkaban, but the Wizengamot wouldn't hear me out. Instead, they were tried in a Muggle courtroom and will spend a very good amount of time behind bars."

Snape made a disappointed sound. "They should be Kissed."

"There was nothing you could have done, Severus. The most you can do now is take care of young Harry and make sure he gets treated well like he is supposed to."

"I will try my best, sir."

Harry didn't stick around to listen to anything else. He quickly shot up the stairs, entering his room before Snape could investigate. His mind raced as he settled under the covers.

What just happened?

  Harry woke up groggy early the next morning. The sunlight that beamed through the window made him pull the covers over his head, trying his hardest to get away from the annoying light. He heard a soft mewl of protest as he rolled over, and he picked up the kitten and placed him next to his arm. Somehow, Hades had managed to get into his room during the night, and the black kitten slept curled into a small ball on Harry's chest all night, much to the annoyance to Hedwig.

Someone gave three sharp knocks to his door, and Harry jerked upright, unpleasant memories of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia snatching him out of the cupboard rushing to the surface. Hades went tumbling to the floor, giving a small squeak as he landed on all fours. He flicked his tiny tail, his nose in the air, and sauntered off to the corner of the room where he plopped down, his back turned to Harry.

 "Potter?" called a soft voice that definitely did not belong to his uncle. "You need to get up. Breakfast is ready and Minerva will be here in an hour. Hurry up and get dressed."

That's right. He wasn't at the Dursley's. He was with Snape. He was safe. He wasn't in trouble for missing breakfast.         

 And Grammy Min will be over soon! The thought rushed him into action. He rolled out of bed, throwing the covers off, and slipped his feet in Snape's hand-me-down oversized slippers. He opened the closet, picking clothes at random, and threw them on. He wound up wearing a plain black t-shirt and faded jeans, which suited Harry just fine. He quickly smoothed down his wild wings, which didn't help in the slightest, and ran down the stairs, only slowing down at Snape's shout.

  Snape gave a small frown at Harry's jeans when he saw Harry's outfit. "I don't know why I even bought you those," he commented. "They look ridiculous."           

"I think they look great," Harry said back, and sat down at the table. His mouth watered at the spread before his eyes, and he had to stop himself from piling too much on his plate at once. Plates toppled with plain, chocolate, strawberry and blueberry pancakes littered the table, with pitchers of maple syrup, whipped cream cans, fruits and nuts surrounding them. Harry piled several chocolate pancakes on his plate and topped them with strawberries before smothering the entire plate with a lake of maple syrup.

 Snape went the less diabetic way and took three blueberry pancakes and covered it with a small spiral of whipped cream. Harry cut away a bite and gave a small moan of pleasure as the flavors hit his tongue. He had never tasted anything so good! Not even the spaghetti from last night hadn't tasted nearly as heavenly as the pancakes! 

He inhaled them one after the other, as if his food was going to be taken from him at any moment. He had come to expect it from the Dursley's, but he now knew Snape would never do something like deprive him of food, which was why after he ate his plate, he eagerly got a second helping. He ate up to three more pancakes, eating a blueberry, strawberry and plain one instead of chocolate, and had a large, satisfied smile on his face when he was done.

 "Thank you so much, sir! It was amazing!" Harry praised. Snape must have been up for a while to make this much food!           

Snape gave a simple one-shoulder shrug, sipping at his coffee. Harry spotted two small spots of color high on his cheeks. "It's nothing a little magic can't help with."

 Harry gulped down his orange juice then politely excused himself. He finished getting ready, trying once more to smooth down his wings. He didn't even try with his hair. He knew beforehand exactly what would happen: nothing.

 Getting his wings smoothed down enough to look at least somewhat presentable was a challenge, but Harry did it. He admired his reflection, sighing in defeat when a feather popped out of place. He knew it was pointless to try again, so he brushed his teeth instead of worrying about it, glad to get rid of all the sticky syrup that coated his teeth. 

The memory of last night surfaced, and with it came questions. He wanted to ask Snape about the man he was talking to, but he didn't want to make the older man mad. He seemed like he was in a good mood, and Harry certainly didn't want to be the person who ruined it. 

Instead of focusing on the previous night, which he knew would bring only more questions, he focused on the sound of the Floo flaring to life in the living room. Harry hastily ran down the stairs, Hades nearly tripping him as he tried to wind around his legs. He shot towards McGonagall, engulfing her in a giant hug. 

"Oof! Hello, Harry dear." She smiled warmly down at him, returning the hug.

"Hello, Grammy Min! Are we going to fly now?" he asked, bouncing on his feet slightly.

 "Harry!" Snape chastised.

 McGonagall gave a small chuckle. "It's alright, Severus. You're straight to the point, aren't you Harry?" Harry felt his face flush. "Well, if you're ready, then I don't see why we can't start now." 

All embarrassment forgotten, Harry quickly ran out of the living room, shooting like a rocket to the glass door leading to the backyard. He heard McGonagall laugh and Snape sigh behind him, and he eagerly threw open the door. 

He realized Snape must have cut the grass at some point without Harry knowing,  because when Harry stepped outside, the grass was no longer as tall as him. He looked out in awe at the lawn. It didn't even look like the same place! 

"It's amazing what a few cutting spells can do," Snape commented behind him. Harry turned his head up to look at the man. Snape's wings were out to their full span, feathers fluttering with the breeze. With his wings spread and his face to the air, he looked more relaxed and happy than Harry had ever seen him. 

McGonagall had hers spread as soon as she left the door. Her brilliantly colored wings shimmered in the sun, making Harry a little envious of their amazing color. Without warning, McGonagall bent down at the knees then shot up in the air, landing on a tree branch not far away. 

Snape rolled his eyes. "Show off," he muttered. Harry looked at her with wide eyes. The sure speed she had flown was very impressive. Harry wouldn't have seen her fly if he hadn't been paying attention. Mcgonagall was looking at him, her cheeks slightly flushed from excitement and a wide smile on her face that made her look nearly twenty years younger. Her legs dangled from the branch, swinging back and forth. 

She must have been fun at Quidditch matches, Harry thought as he craned his neck to peer at her. 

"That, Harry, is what we plan on getting you to at the end of the day," McGonagall said. She hopped down from the branch, her wings catching wind and softening her fall. Her feet touched the ground and she folded her wings again, tight against her back. Harry eyed her like she was crazy as she walked towards him. 

"Me, do that in just a day? That looks like it could take years!" he complained, tugging at his much smaller wings. There was just no way he could compete with her speed. Even Snape looked slightly skeptical. 

"Nonsense, Harry. Your father was a fast flyer. Faster than me, even, and he was only a second year when he began Quidditch. I'm positive you can do it," McGonagall replied. 

"While I'm sure that's true, Grammy Min, I have my mum's wings, not my dad's. I don't know how well she flied. For all I know, I may not even be able to fly," he said, thinking back to the time in Snape's quarters when he had prepared himself for flying to the mantle. 

"Well that's just silly," Snape spoke up, surprising Harry. He had been silent until then, watching with a small air of impatience. He figured he wasn't going to assist in any way. "Lily was a marvelous flyer. She may not have been exactly on par with your father, but she was good on her own. She made a marvelous Keeper. Besides, you may have your mother's wings, but that does not mean you haven't inherited your father's speed." McGonagall nodded in agreement.

"For example," Snape continued. "I have a cousin in Manchester who inherited his father's wings. Tiny little things, they were. But his mother, daredevil women she is, could outfly a fighter jet if she wanted. Despite his little wings, he had inherited his mother's speed. He could outfly her if he so wished. So it doesn't matter whose wings you've got, or what they look like, it just depends on genetics." 

"Exactly," McGonagall butted in. "I wouldn't put it past you to have inherited both of their flying talent. It'll just make you a greater asset for when you join your House's Quidditch team." 

"Still stuck on that are you?" Snape said, peering at her with an eyebrow raised. Harry thought for a moment that he was being mean, but he saw the glint in his eyes that countered his nasty tone. McGonagall just gave a small smirk back. 

"We just don't want you to get discouraged, Harry. Even if you don't inherit your father's speed, we know you'll still be a marvelous flyer," she said. Harry still had a small inkling of doubt, but he pushed it in the back of his mind. He spread his wings, marveling in the wind that rushed through the gaps in his feathers. 

"Try to fly to the tree and back. You don't have to go fast. Go at the pace you feel comfortable at," Snape said, pointing to a tree a few feet ahead. Harry thought that was a bit short distance, but didn't argue. He bent his knees, finding his balance, then shot up. 

He nearly fell as soon as he got in the air. His wings flapped frantically, keeping him a few inches off the ground. Despite their size, they barely held him up at all. He flapped harder, only being able to rise another inch. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His breath came in short gasps, and he strained to keep himself up. 

Dejected, he flopped back down on the ground, his butt hitting the concrete. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Snape give McGonagall a small look. Harry couldn't tell what it was, but he was sure the message was clear: He couldn't fly. 

"Don't be sad, Harry. Not everyone can get it their first time," McGonagall comforted. She grabbed his hand and helped him up. 

"I bet my dad got it his first time," Harry grumbled. 

"I wouldn't know if he did or not. He was already flying before he got to Hogwarts. Caused trouble wherever he went, that boy." McGonagall narrowed her eyes, remembering the menace that was eleven year old James Potter flying through the halls. 

"I didn't get it my first try either, Harry," Snape said, brushing off Harry's shoulders. "It took me well into my first year until I could fly twelve feet off the ground." 

"Yeah, well that's you," Harry replied, not caring about his sharp tone. 

Snape ignored his comment. "Your mother couldn't fly her first time as well. It took her a couple of days, but then she was flying around England like a pro. She had to teach me when we were younger before Madam Hooch became my instructor. I can promise you, if you keep practicing and don't give up, you will be flying high in no time. You are your mother's son, after all." 

Harry pursed his lips, letting the words sink in. "Perhaps," he said slowly. "Perhaps we can just focus on keeping me airborne for now instead of me flying twenty miles per hour like you wanted, Grammy Min." 

McGonagall flushed a light pink on her cheeks, looking a bit sheepish. "Yes, well, perhaps I had my hopes set a bit high. I was just excited. I think that's a good idea, Harry." 

For the next two hours, Harry practiced, flapping with all his might. He managed to get to the point where he could fly a few inches forward without wobbling in the air. By lunchtime, he could fly to the end of the yard and back, as long as it was low to the ground. He hoped that after lunch he could practice flying higher. 

McGonagall praised him as they walked back in to eat. Even Snape looked mildly proud. She made sandwiches, turkey with lettuce and cheese. Harry scarfed his down, excited to go back outside and fly. 

"You really need to learn how to eat slower," Snape commented as he placed another sandwich on Harry's plate. 

Harry frowned and poked at the bread. "But I want to go back outside," he whined. 

"We'll go out soon enough. For now, you need to eat. Flying exerts a lot of energy, and you're going to need a lot of it for practicing," Snape shot back. 

"You've already exceeded my expectations, and it's only noon!" McGonagall said. "For now, lets just try and practice perfecting what you know. You don't need to rush." 

"I've already got my flying form down. I think I can handle flying a bit higher and faster. I want to try and fly to a tree branch, like how you did before."

"Except not as fast," McGonagall chimed in.

"Yeah. Except not as fast."

"I think Severus should teach you that. My old wings are tired from all of this flying. And I believe it is my turn to observe anyway," she said, eyeing Snape.

Snape rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "I suppose."

Harry felt a surge of excitement rush through him. If he thought his Grammy Min was a great teacher, he couldn't wait to see Snape! He studied the jet black wings. They were sleek and shiny, looking perfect for a fast race. He looked like he could outfly McGonagall!

Harry ate slower this time, savoring the turkey instead of scarfing it down like before. Snape had said Lily had taught him, so perhaps he could teach him some of his mother's techniques.

Snape got up, brushing crumbs away from his mouth. "Are you ready, Harry?"

Harry shoved his half-eaten sandwich away, hurrying to stand beside Snape. "Yes,sir!"

Something sparkled inside the onyx eyes, and he trained them on McGonagall. "Are you coming, Minerve?" his deep voice said.

McGonagall shook her head, patting her stomach. She looked content. "I think I'll just watch from the window. I'm tired and full. But I will join you later," she replied.

Snape nodded his head. Harry saw McGonagall pick up a mewling Hades, then followed his new teacher out to the backyard.

Snape was way harsher than McGonagall, but he didn't go as fast as she did. He gave Harry time to perfect what he was learning before going on to the next thing. McGonagall would get too excited and rush onto the next lesson before Harry could barely finish with the last lesson.

"Harry, you need to keep your balance. If you keep wobbling like that, you'll fall for sure!" came the yell he had become accustomed to.

Harry grumbled something rude under his breath, but tried to steady his body. His foot slipped from the tree branch, and he would have plummeted straight to his death if Snape hadn't of caught his arm and pulled him back upright.

Instead of having Harry try flying straight away, he had him practice balance. He flew Harry to a tall tree branch and had him hold his wings out while trying to stay upright as he walked to the end and back. Snape stood on a branch directly across, his wings folded and standing against the harsh winds that had suddenly appeared. He had no doubt that Snape had conjured the wind, just to add extra pressure.

Harry looked down, and his eyes saw double. He scrambled himself further to the middle of the branch. He had no fear of heights, really. He had become accustomed to them whenever Ripper was around. He had even stayed the night in them a time or too. But he had never been this high up. He was also nervous, nervous of failing and falling and letting Snape down. He didn't want to disappoint his new mentor, and every time he looked down, he thought of falling, and how distressed Snape would be.The double vision lawn seemed to taunt him, but he shook his head and kept walking.

A rather strong gust of wind hit his wings, and he flapped them to keep upright. Bad idea.

As soon as his wings moved, he went flying backwards, too fast for Snape to catch. He hit a the thick tree trunk, the wind getting knocked out of him, and fell. His vision darkened.The lawn came closer and closer, and he closed his eyes, bracing for impact. He could hear Snape's worried shout behind him, and could hear the branch creak as he shot off to catch him.

Flap, Harry. Flap your wings. Hurry! The voice came out of nowhere. It wasn't one he recognized, certainly not his own inner voice. It was warm, soothing, and he had a strong urge of familiarity.

He listened to the new voice, and flapped. Once. Twice. He stopped falling. His balance evened out. He pulled up just as he was about to go splat. His feet grazed the grass, and the wind whipped his hair. He turned midair, facing behind him. His wings flapped leisurely, completely different from before. Snape flew beside him, a look of mild panic on his features. His arms were still outstretched to catch him.

"What on earth?" McGonagall threw the door open, storming out and looking above her.

Harry looked down. "Look Grammy Min! I'm flying! I'm doing it!" He did a mid-air donut, just to prove his point.

The looked of panic snapped off of Snape's face, replaced with something odd that looked like a mix between anger and happiness. He flew towards Harry, and gripped his skinny shoulders. The strong raven wings blew even more air in his face.

"What. The. Hell. Were. You. Thinking?" Each word was said with a shake, and Harry's glasses threatened to fall off his nose.

"I-I..." Harry stammered.

"Did you fall on purpose? Did you think you could try out a new technique? Answer me, Potter!" There was a wild look in Snape's eyes, and it scared Harry a little.

"I didn't fall on purpose, I promise! The wind caught my wings!" Harry tried to pry Snape's fingers away from his shoulder, but the digits wouldn't move. He was going to have bruises there for sure.

Snape then did something that he was sure surprised the both of them. He held Harry close, crushing him in a hug that robbed him of his limited breath. "Thank Merlin you're okay. I was so scared. I thought you were going to die, and it would be all my fault."

Harry stopped struggling from the hold, looking at the older man's face. His eyes were closed tight, and Harry could see his lips quivering. His breath came in shudders, and Harry could feel Snape's heartbeat beating against his chest, wild and erratic.

"I'm okay, sir. I promise. I'm okay." Harry hugged the man back, hoping to calm him down a little. Snape swallowed hard, and let out a shaky breath. He let go.

"We're done with practice for today," he said, his voice a little wobbly, then began steering Harry mid-air down to the ground.

"What! But I finally got the hang of it! I can fly now!" Harry tried protesting. Snape said nothing, just pushed him faster. Harry's feet touched the soft grass. McGonagall had her hands over her mouth, and she rushed over as they landed.

"Are you okay?" she asked. She began to check Harry for injuries, fussing over him and bustling around. She gave a new meaning to the term ‘mother hen'.

"I'm fine, Grammy Min." He broke free of the older woman's hold and faced Snape.

"Why can't we practice anymore today?" he asked, stepping closer.

"I need some time to calm down after your little stunt. We can practice some more tomorrow. But for now, we're done," the man replied, his voice leaving no room for argument. Harry didn't even bother trying to explain that he didn't fall on purpose. He knew the man was too far gone to listen. He would just have to explain later. Snape stormed back into the house, and walked up the stairs. He could hear his bedroom door slamming shut.

Harry sighed and walked to the dining room, where he plopped down on one of the chairs. Hades pawed at his leg, mewing. He nudged the kitten away.

"Not now, Hades," he mumbled. McGonagall came and sat opposite his chair.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" she asked, placing a withered hand on top of his own.

He squeezed her hand in reassurance. "I'm fine."

His back began to itch, right at the base of his wings, and he struggled to reach behind him and scratch.

"Is it supposed to itch like this after flying?" Harry asked, finally managing to get a finger on one of the irritating spots. He scratched lightly, sighing when the itchiness went away.

"You're wings need preening," McGonagall said, looking at the ruffled feathers.

McGonagall batted his hands away from his shoulder blades then began to scratch. Harry leaned into the touch, arching his back like a cat. After scratching, she began to run her fingers through his feathers, smoothing them down.

"Turn your chair around, Harry. I need more room to groom your wings."

Harry obeyed, turning his chair around and placing his arms on the back. He could feel McGonagall's hands roam over his primary feathers, picking away at whatever was lodged in his wings. The grooming went on for quite some time, well over an hour. By that time, Snape had cooled down some and was now sitting in the chair McGonagall had vacated, large nose placed firmly in a book. His wings were wild as well, and Harry was sure he was waiting on his turn of grooming from McGonagall.

Harry was completely relaxed, nearly boneless in the chair. He never knew clean wings would make him feel this good. It felt like he just walked out of the bathroom after a long warm shower. He felt like he could go to sleep at any minute.

McGonagall plucked one more thing out of his wings then scooted her chair back. "I'm all done, Harry. You really need to keep your wings more clean. I know you've only had them for a couple of days, but it looked like they have been on your shoulders for years," she said as he got up.

She held out her hand, close fists, and Harry stared at her curiously. "Look at this," she whispered. Even Snape looked up from his book to see. McGonagall opened her hand, and a small mound of baby feathers fell to the floor.

"You're molting," Snape said, bending down to pluck one of the feathers off the ground.

"Molting?" Harry questioned, inspecting the pile. "Is that bad?"

McGonagall smiled. "No, Harry. It's the exact opposite. It's amazing! You're wings are growing!"

"What?" Harry brought a wing around. They looked the same to him. "They are?"

"When witches and wizards get their wings, it starts off as baby feathers. They grow extremely fast, almost directly overnight. You won't be able to feel it. You just wake up one morning on your birthday to see a full set of wings. But over the next couple of days, your wings begin to molt, shedding the rest of the baby feathers. It allows larger feathers to grow in their place, and once your molting process is complete, you'll have bigger wings, shinier and better than before." Snape explained. "When Minerva groomed your feathers, it sped up the process a bit, and now we have this lovely pile on my dining room floor." Snape frowned a bit, but scooped up the rest of the feathers.

"It's a process that is very important in a young witch or wizard's growth. Some parents usually keep the first baby feathers that molt, much like how some keep the first baby tooth that falls," McGonagall said.

Snape put the baby feathers in a little ziploc, then handed the small plastic baggy to Harry. "Congratulations," he said.

Harry stared at the small feathers with awe. They looked fuzzy, a bit duller than some of his other feathers. He had never noticed them before.

"These came from me?" he asked.

Snape nodded. "They look a lot your mother's baby feathers. We never got to keep hers. She lost them when her sister set the baggy on fire."

Harry felt a prick of annoyance. Of course Petunia would ruin something so important.

"You better find a safe place to put those. We don't want to lose them," Snape said.

"I'll put them in my bedside table," he replied.

Hades pawed at a feather that they had missed. Harry enjoyed watching the kitten play as McGonagall preened Snape's feathers. The man sighed and relaxed as she ran her hand through his wings. His head was in his arms, and he was reacting like he was getting a deep tissue massage. He rolled his shoulders on more than one occasion, and his wings fluffed up when McGonagall began to go down his primary feathers.

"I'm sorry, Severus," McGonagall said, amused. "I forgot you're ticklish on the outside of your wings."

Snape just grunted in response.

McGonagall finished Snape's, then turned around so he could do her wings. Harry hid a small smile. The image reminded him of monkeys sitting in a line, plucking bugs off of their partner.

Bored now with all the waiting, Harry went to his room, Hades padding along behind him. Spin, the lazy snake, was taking a nap underneath the lamp light. Hedwig peeked an eye open, but closed it when she saw it was Harry.

"Hello, girl," he murmured, petting her snowy feathers. He dug around for an owl treat, and she nipped happily at his fingers as he fed it to her. He went to place the bag away back in his drawer, but stopped. He looked at the small bag of treats curiously.

Can I eat these? he thought. I do have wings, after all. Doesn't that make me part bird?

He rolled the treat in his fingers. He could just hear Snape rebuking him for his stupidity. Was it really worth it? He looked at Hedwig, who was watching him intently. Oh, well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I guess.

He popped the treat in his mouth like popcorn. Instantly, his face contorted to a look of disgust. He spat the treat out on the floor, where Hades began to sniff the small pellet.

"Oh yuck!" Harry wiped at his mouth, spitting the taste out. "That's disgusting!" He turned to his pet owl. "How can you eat these?"

Hedwig cocked her head sideways, her wide eyes curious, like, whatever do you mean? 

Harry furiously tried to wipe the taste off his tongue with his shirt collar. Spin lifted his head up and gave a hissing laugh.

"Oh, shut up," Harry hissed at him.

Hades licked at the treat then scrambled back, licking at his nose rapidly. He wore the same expression that Harry had earlier.

"Nasty, isn't it?" he asked the small kitten. He picked up the owl treat, placing it in his garbage bin. He sat on his bed, bouncing on the creaky springs. Something on his bedside table caught his eye. A brown envelope laid on the corner, his name in loopy handwriting on the front.

"Hello, there. What's this?" He reached for the letter and picked it up, examining the outside. He waved it at his bird. "Did you deliver this, Hedwig?" he asked. She hooted, which he took as an affirmative. Funny, he didn't remember he having something on her leg when she came back that night, but then again he was very tired. He had probably forgotten before he went to sleep. He tore open the letter, curiosity overtaking him.

Harry, it began in the same loopy handwriting. His heart leaped. It was a reply from Hermione!

It's so great to hear from you again! I was going to write myself, but I realized I didn't have a way to get a letter to you. But then you wrote first, so now everything is solved! I will admit, seeing an owl fly into my window at three in the afternoon was a bit of a shock, but I assumed it was something from the wizarding world, so I didn't have to worry.

Imagine my surprise when I found out the Harry Potter was writing me! Not many people get this chance you know, and to ask me for advice and questions to boot! I was extremely excited, needless to say.

As for your questions, I may have some answers.

I for one wasn't afraid at first. It wasn't until I was informed by this lady McGonagall of his no doubt return that I began to get anxious. My emotions were just heightened that day in Diagon Alley from excitement, so that's why I seemed so afraid. But it is scary, you have to admit. Just imagine that man returning! I wouldn't want to stay in England if that happened. I would most likely move to America with my cousins. As for it being a rumor, there are a lot of rumors about a lot of things. Who knows if it is real or not. We'll just have to see. That's what I'm afraid of.

Those were my parents you saw in the shop with me. They were almost as excited as me to get to see magic. McGonagall, who is a professor at Hogwarts, came on my birthday. She told me I had magical abilities and explained how Muggleborns are descendants from Squibs, people who don't have any magic despite being born in a magical family. She gave me Hogwarts: A History as a gift and went over it with me. That's how I knew about you. She took us to Diagon Alley the next day to help us get supplies. She cast this spell on my parents so they could see. While my parents and I were at Madam Malkin's, Miss McGonagall went to get some of my other supplies, like potion ingredients and my books.

You sound like you're having a lot of fun. If you do get permission to bring Spin to Hogwarts, please keep him away from me. I'm not a huge fan of snakes, even if he is nice.

I can't wait for Hogwarts. I want to go to the library and live in it. I hear it's a huge labrynth of books. It sounds like heaven. There's a picture of Hogwarts in the book. The grounds do look rather large. I hope I'm in good enough shape to keep up with everybody and make it across the grounds for my class everyday. I wouldn't want to be left behind.

My summer has been amazing as well. It's almost dinner time, so I'll have to tell you at a later time. Perhaps I'll see you on the train. I hope you continue to have a great summer. You seem like a nice person as well!

-Hermione G. 

Harry smiled. Hermione sure was thorough with her answers. He had suspected she was smart, now he had proof!

The phone ringing in the living room made him jump. He poked his head out. "Who is it, sir?" he called.

He saw Snape's shadow move from the dining room to the living room. Harry walked down the stairs, curious.

"Snape residence.This is Severus speaking," Snape's deep voice answered the phone. His expression changed from one of boredom to shock. A large smile broke out across his face. Harry had never seen him with that look before. From McGonagall's expression, she hadn't either.

"Miss Rose! What a surprise! I was just going to call you later today!" Snape's excited tone reached his ears. Harry perked up. Miss Rose? Could that be his grandmother?

"Yes, yes! You've heard correctly. Oh, yes. He's here." Snape's eyes roamed across the room until they landed on Harry. He held out the phone, his eyebrow raised. Harry quickly scrambled back, shaking his head. He hated talking on the phone, no matter who it was. It always gave him anxiety. Snape looked a bit put down, but held the phone back to his ear, making Harry sigh with relief.

"I'm sorry. He can't answer the phone right now. He's a little shy." A deep laugh rang across the living area. "I understand completely. Mmhmm. Yes. I would love that! Tomorrow, perhaps? That's wonderful! Yes, of course we'll be there. That's a perfect time. Thank you so much for calling, Miss Rose. Oh, of course. I forgot. Goodbye, um, mum." A pause. "I lo-ehem-I love you, too," he rushed, as if he didn't want Harry or McGonagall to hear. "Goodbye, ma'am." He hung up the phone, his cheeks tinged pink.  

"Who was that, Severus?" McGonagall asked, asking the question Harry was dying to say. Her voice was underlined with slight laughter.

Snape turned to face them, clearing his throat. "Miss Rose. That was Harry's grandmother," he replied. "She had heard that Harry was staying with me and wanted to talk to him." He eyed Harry. "Since he couldn't answer, she asked Harry and I over tomorrow for lunch. She wants to get to know you, her and your grandfather. Mr. Joe couldn't talk, but you'll meet him tomorrow. He was taking a breathing treatment."

Harry felt a rush of excitement. He was going to meet his grandparents! "What time did she say?" he asked happily.

"Noon. We're going to have to get up early though to get ready. She may say noon, but she really means eleven thirty. She hates tardiness, and would rather you be early when you go to visit."

She sounded a lot like Aunt Petunia in that regard. He hoped she was nicer. As long as she didn't throw frying pans at his head, he was fine.

"That's fine with me!"

McGonagall smiled. "I hope you have fun, Harry. I haven't met them personally, but from what I heard from Severus and your mother, they are very kind people." She got up from her chair, rolling her shoulders. "Well, I have to go, Severus. Thank you for having me over. I had a marvelous time."

"You're leaving?" Snape asked.

McGonagall nodded. "Yes. I hate to leave when the fun was just getting started, but all of that flying wore me out, and add that with the wonderful grooming you gave my wings, I'm about to fall asleep where I stand!" She chuckled then stretched. Harry could hear her joints popping from where he was at the stairs.

"Well, it was a fun time having you over. I'm glad you could help with Harry's flying, Minerva," Snape said, then got the jar of Floo powder off of the mantle.

"Yeah! Thank you so much for helping!" Harry gave her a hug, which she gladly returned with bone-crushing strength.

She stepped into the fireplace. "Goodbye! Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall's office!" The fire turned green, then she was gone.

Once the flames died down, Snape turned to Harry. "Are you excited?"

Are you excited? What type of question was that? "Of course I'm excited! I feel like I'm gonna...I'm gonna explode with all of this excitement!" He replied. His wings flapped energetically with his words.

Papers rustled on the living room table from the wind Harry made. Snape cracked another smile, except it wasn't as large as the last one. "I'm glad. You'll love them."

A thought entered his head, a dark one that made Harry's excitement die down instantly. "What if they don't like me?"

Snape's smile vanished. "Why would you ever think that? Of course they'll love you! They have been so excited to meet you. I'm sure you'll get along splendidly."

The dark thought still nagged at the back of his mind, despite Snape's comforting words. "Yeah, but what if?  Did they even know I was alive?" His breath quickened.

"Did they think I died with Mum and Dad? Or-or, if they knew I was alive, why didn't they come and visit? Why didn't I get put with them instead of my aunt and uncle? Why-" Harry was nearly hyperventilating now, his breaths coming in short bursts. His voice sounded hysterical, right on the verge of tears.

Snape gripped his shoulders. "Harry! Harry! Shh! Calm down, child. Calm down."

Snape held him until Harry calmed down. His breathing evened out. He realized he was gripping Snape's shirt fiercely, and quickly let go.

"Now, will you let me explain?" Snape asked in a soft tone. Harry nodded. Snape led him to the couch, where they both sat down.

"Your grandparents..." he began, licking his lips. "They wanted you." Harry opened his mouth, but Snape intervened. "Yes, they knew you were alive, Harry. Please don't interrupt. They wanted you after that night, but Dumbledore wouldn't let them. He said that your aunt and uncle would be better. They were younger. They would offer better protection from the wizarding world. Miss. Rose and Mr. Joe didn't like that at all. In fact, they wanted a court case to have custody of you, but the Wizengamot sided with Dumbledore. You were placed with Petunia and Vernon instead. After that, it was up to them whether you saw them or not. Judging by your reaction, I would say you haven't."

Harry shook his head. "I didn't even know I had grandparents until you told me."

Snape let out a breath from his nose. "I was afraid of that. Miss Rose has told me on multiple occasions that they had made plans to see you, but they were cancelled every time. She never really explained why. I now assume it was because Petunia shooed her away."

Harry shrugged. "I suppose. I don't even think Dudley knew he had grandparents either. He never mentioned them."

A slight sneer marred the older man's face. "Damn woman," he hissed.

A fragment of their conversation rang in his ears, and something clicked into place. "Hold on. You said you talk with her. Does that mean you're close? You called her mum over the phone."

Color rose up Snape's neck. "I, uh...yes, well...I'll--I'll explain later," he dodged.

Harry opened his mouth to demand more, but Snape stood up. "I hope that explained everything, Harry. Just know that your grandparents wanted you and they love you very much. Now, go to your room and busy yourself. I..I have things to do."

 Harry wrote back to Hermione as soon as he got out parchment and a quill. He talked about his flying lessons, living with his new mentor, and about McGonagall; how she was outside of work and how amazingly fast she could fly.

He asked her about hearing voices, especially ones from the dead. He had a feeling he knew who the voice belonged too, but he had to get answers first. He didn't want to think he was crazy, although it was quickly coming to that conclusion.

By the time he finished his letter, it was dinner time. Snape and Harry ate in silence, each munching on their take out pizza without making eye contact. The only time words were spoken was when Snape asked Harry to pass the parmesan.

Harry went to sleep late that night. He couldn't stop thinking about his grandparents. Despite Snape's words earlier, he was still curious about their reactions when they would meet him. Would they hate him? Would they love him instantly? Did he look anything like them? Would they judge him based on his looks? What if they didn't like his dad and hated him because he looked like him? Those thoughts raced a mile a minute through his mind.

He felt like he had barely fallen asleep when Snape shook him awake hours later. He trudged along behind the older man, going through the motions of getting ready. He perked up when the lovely smell of french toast wafted under his nose.

He woke up completely when a warm breeze brushed across his face as they opened the front door. Harry wanted nothing more than to use his newfound flying talent and take off. He tugged on Snape's shirt, giving him a curious look.

"Sir? Do you think we could fly there? I know it's not far, but this would be the perfect day for flying!" he said. It was true. There was not a cloud in the sky to be seen, and the soft blue color of the atmosphere mixed with the warm sunshine made him feel extremely happy. It quelled any midnight thoughts he had the previous night.

Snape shook his head, although it looked like he wanted to fly as well. His wings twitched, itching to be at full span and take off. "It's only two blocks away to get to your grandparent's house. We can walk there. It would look odd otherwise if Muggles just see two people flying overhead anyway." Snape looked down at Harry, and at seeing his face, a thoughtful look crossed. "But, if you wish, we can fly when we get back, just as long as you stay in the backyard. "

Harry pouted, but agreed. At least he got to fly later. That's all he really cared about.

The neighbors were kind as they walked. One woman leaned out her window to wave, and another let Harry pet his dog as he was walking by. Harry felt like he was in a Disney movie. He honestly expected the people to burst out in song, like in the Beauty and the Beast.

Snape scowled a bit after he pet the dog. "You don't know where that dog has been, Harry," he said lowly so the other man couldn't hear. "When we get to your grandparents house, you will wash your hands straight away."

Harry just shrugged an affirmative. The dog didn't feel dirty, but he didn't want to argue with Snape. He had a feeling the man was on edge enough as it was. It seemed Harry wasn't the only one a bit nervous at meeting his grandparents, although Harry didn't know why. Snape had already met them, and seemed very close to them. Unless Snape was just as nervous as Harry about their reaction, which didn't quell Harry's jitteriness any.

They came to a block where nearly every house looked the same. The only differences were in lawn decoration, or the plants that littered the walkway. It looked way better than Snape's block, whose houses looked they would fall down at any moment, despite all the nice people. It was the complete opposite of Snape's road.

Harry saw a house that looked completely overgrown with plants. Vines grew up the side of the wall, although it didn't remind Harry of those run-down spooky houses that was constantly seen in scary movies. The vines gave this house an almost magical look, like they belonged there and would stay there. A full garden peeked out from behind, making beautiful smells fly in the wind.

Harry knew instantly this was his grandparent's house. Snape didn't looked shocked as Harry left his side and ran up the walkway. He passed by the mailbox, then turned to see Snape following. A full smile broke out, and Harry buzzed with happiness as Snape walked up beside him and rang the doorbell.

An older lady opened the door. She had brown eyes that shined in the light, and Harry could tell her white hair was once a beautiful shade of red. Strands of hair fell out of her bun and fell to the sides of her face, framing her features. She should be well into her late sixties, possibly seventies, but she didn't look it. The only thing old about her was her hair. There may have been a wrinkle here or there around her face, but otherwise, she looked just like an older version of his mother. He couldn't see how this lady could have been the mother to Petunia. She looked too nice to have given birth to that demon.

As soon as she opened the door, she smiled wide and engulfed Snape in a hug that made Harry wince from the fierceness of it. Snape hugged back almost as hard as her. "Hullo, Miss Rose," he said in a voice that held the most emotion Harry had ever heard from the man.

"Oh, Sev! It's so great to see you. I was beginning to think you weren't going to come!" she said, holding him by the shoulders. Harry knew for a fact that it was barely past eleven. Now he knew what Snape meant about her wanting them to be early.

"Look at you! You've grown since I've last seen you!" If possible, her smile grew even wider. Two twin spots of color appeared on Snape's pale cheeks.

"It's only been three years, mum," he mumbled.

She huffed, but Harry could tell it wasn't ill-intended. She placed a hand on her hip, and waggled a finger under his nose with the other. "Three years is plenty time time for you to grow. What are you now? Twenty-nine?"

"Thirty. I'll be-"

"Thirty-one in January, yes I know. You don't think I would have forgotten your birthday now, would you?" She patted his cheek. "My, it seems like only yesterday you were toddling on over here to play hide-and-seek with Lily. Kids these days grow so-" She broke off, spotting Harry.

A hand shot to her mouth, and her eyes went wide. "Goodness gracious, is that...?" she breathed. A hand reached out to brush at his hair and he tried not to flinch back.

"Harry? Is that you?" Her brown eyes sparked with something Harry couldn't place.

His mind raced for something to say. He couldn't very well leap into her arms, although it seemed that it was what she was expecting. He barely knew her. "Um, hello," he said dumbly.

Her hands shot out and engulfed him before he could even blink. His wings were crushed painfully to his back, although she didn't seem to notice. Harry really wished she could see them. Perhaps then her grip wouldn't be vice-like.

His arms hung awkwardly at his sides. He tried to bring them up to hug back, but they were contained, unable to move. He didn't know how Snape had managed to hug her back.

"Harry," her watery voice reached his ears. She pushed up from his shoulder, tears misting in her eyes. She placed her hands on either side of his face. "I never thought I would see you again. Gosh, you've grown so much. You look just like your father." He pretended to not see Snape flinch at the words.

Brown met green. "You have your mother's eyes." A soft smile graced her face, making her look younger. Her hand ran through his black locks, messing up what Harry had tried to smooth down. "And as much as your father's hair was wild, I daresay you have your grandfather's, poor child." She chuckled, the sound ringing like bells.

"Rose? Has Severus come already?" an older voice called. An old man stepped onto the porch, leaning heavily on his cane.

His grandmother had been right. His grandfather's hair couldn't be described as anything else but wild. Combined with the speckled grey and white, he looked more like a mad scientist than a grandfather. His eyelids hung low, as if he was constantly tired, and his breath came in nasally rasps.

He smiled gently when he spotted Severus. "Hello, Severus. I say, it's been a while. You need to come over more often."

The color never seemed to leave Snape's neck and face, leaving very red splotches that stood out against his pale skin. "Yes, well, I do tend to be very busy these days. Teaching doesn't look like much, but it is a lot of work."

His grandfather chuckled at the words, as if he could relate. His eyes roamed past Snape and landed on Harry, who was once again being squeezed to death by his grandmother's hug. His eyes widened slightly, and he gripped his cane tighter. Snape leaned forward, arms out, just in case his grandfather decided to faint.

It wasn't needed though, because he gained his composure, although his knuckles were still white from pressure. His eyes met Harry's, and Harry realized that they were the same startling green as his own.

"Harry," he breathed.

His grandmother let go of him once again and went to stand at her husband's side. She touched his arm. "Harry's come back, Joe. Isn't it a miracle?"

A small smile spread across his wrinkled cheeks. It looked like he couldn't answer straight away, too overcome by emotion. His lips wobbled a bit, and he turned away. His grandmother reached up and brushed away a tear that was rolling its way down to his chin.

His grandmother seemed to realize that they were still standing on the porch, in plain view of all of their neighbors. "Oh, where are my manners? Come in, come in. I have lunch almost ready."

Snape didn't need telling twice. Harry could tell he had felt a bit awkward during the entire episode, just standing there while Harry was being fawned over, and rushed in at his grandmother's words. His grandmother reached out an arm and wrapped it securely around his waist. She led both him and his grandfather to the living room, shutting the door behind her with her foot.

Snape had already taken a seat, familiar with the surroundings. Harry had to gape at the room. It was nice. Very nice. His grandparents were very well off, that was for sure.

A small chandelier hung from the ceiling, and a soft circular rug lay in the middle of the floor, going underneath one of the two couches, one where Snape had already gotten comfy on.

A fireplace was in the corner, although it wasn't lit. On the mantle there were many little knick knacks and pictures. Two chairs were on either side of the fireplace, both looking extremely comfortable and very well used. On the wall right above it hung a rather large cross carved with intricate designs. The surrounding walls were littered with pictures. He could see his mother and Snape prominent in many of them, showing various ages of growth. Petunia was there, too, although there weren't many pictures of her. They stopped after her graduation picture. There wasn't even one of her wedding, which Harry was secretly glad. He had seen plenty of the picture back at their place. He didn't need to see a freshly shaved Vernon straining in a tight tuxedo again.

One looked like wedding photos of his grandparents, and Harry's breath caught when he spotted one with his mother in a wedding dress. On either side of that one, there were two very smaller picture frames, each sporting two feathers that were criss-crossed. The one on the right held a feather bright as gold crossed over one that was black as night. He figured that was his mother's and Snape's feathers. They looked small, as if they were plucked when they were children. The one on the left held bigger feathers, fully grown ones. One was the same golden feather, but this time it was crossed by a bright blue feather. He suspected that it was his father's, and Harry could feel his eyes begin to go misty. Hastily, he wiped at them.

"Take a seat, dear. Anywhere is fine." His grandmother motioned to the couches. Not wanting to be sitting by himself, he plopped down right next to Snape, his knuckles clenched tight on his knees.

"Relax, Harry," Snape said under his breath. "It's fine. There's no need to be nervous."

Harry tried his hardest to relax, taking in a deep breath in his nose and exhaling through his mouth. "There you go," Snape praised.

"Make yourselves comfortable," his grandmother said. "I'm going to go check on lunch. Joe, dear, can you help me set the table?"

His grandfather, who had been in the middle of sitting down in his chair, groaned and slowly got back up. Snape quickly stood up, making his grandfather look relieved.

"It's okay. I've got it, Mr. Joe," He said. His grandfather plopped down in his chair with a satisfied sigh. Harry felt a bit bad that he didn't offer himself to help.

"Nonsense, Severus. He's been he's been helping me set the table for years," she argued.

"Just let the boy do it, Rose. I'm getting too old to much anymore. He's done it plenty of times anyway," he retaliated. His grandmother huffed, but motioned for Snape to follow. His grandfather gave a tiny smile and shuffled down in his chair, propping his legs on the foot rest.

"Rose needs to realize we're not teenagers anymore. I get tired too easily," he said, chuckling at the end. Awkwardly, Harry laughed along.  

"How have you been, Harry? I haven't seen you since you were a little thing," his grandfather asked.

Harry shuffled around on the couch. He couldn't very well tell him the truth, that he had been miserable, at least living with Vernon and Petunia. That was his daughter and step-son. He didn't want to make him angry.

"I've been great, sir," he replied. It was true, at least when living with Snape. He was way better than his aunt or uncle. "Mr. Snape has been a great guardian."

"Mr. Snape?" His grandfather laughed. It sounded wheezy and phlegmy. "He doesn't let you call him Severus?" He shook his head, amused. "That boy, I swear," he said under his breath.

"It's good you've been having a good time with him, Harry. He may seem all mean, but underneath all of that gruff is a very caring man. I can tell he cares for you a lot. He better, anyway! You're his nephew!"

Harry's eyes felt like they were going to burst from their sockets. "He's my uncle?" he practically squeaked.

His grandfather seemed amused by his outburst. "Well, of course. We adopted him, right around his twelfth birthday." He stopped, thinking, then opened his mouth again. "Well, I say adopted, but we just got guardianship of him. He's not technically your uncle, but he might as well be. His parents died while he was at Hogwarts. His mother died in a car crash, if you can believe that, and his father was found dead in his home. So we took him in. He practically lived over here anyway, so nothing really changed much. He still insists on calling us Mr. Joe and Miss Rose, although we've told him countless times to call us mum and dad. Old habits die hard, I guess."

So that explained how he was so close to his grandmother, and why he called her mum over the phone.

"So, does that mean I have to call him Uncle Severus now?" he asked.

His grandfather guffawed, although Harry didn't see what was so funny. It was an honest question.

"You can call him whatever you wish, Harry. I'm sure he wouldn't mind," he replied. Harry somehow had to disagree. Although Snape was acting nice to him now, he had a feeling the man didn't really like him all that much in the beginning, although he didn't know why. He probably wouldn't like it if he started spurting out names for him without asking him first.

"I guess so, sir," Harry said anyway.

"Bah! Enough with the sirs." His grandfather waved it away like he was shooing a fly. "I got enough of that during my military days. Just call me Papaw."

Papaw. Harry liked the sound of that. "Okay...Papaw."

His Papaw smiled wide. "Attaboy!"

Harry couldn't help but smile back. The sound of his grandmother's voice calling them to the dining room rang down the hall, and Harry swiftly got up. He walked over to help his grandfather up, who seemed to be struggling to get out of his chair. He waved him away.

"It's fine, Harry. I think I got it." With a great big strain and lots of grunting, he lifted himself up with the armrests, but only after standing for a second, he flopped back down. He pursed his lips, then looked up at Harry. "Help me."

Biting his lip to keep the smile off his face, he gripped his Papaw's arms and helped him up. He handed him his cane. Together, they slowly made their way to the dining room. Snape was putting the finishing touches on their table settings when they walked in and his grandmother was pouring tea into three glasses. A large pot of coffee was being made on the side.  

His grandfather took a seat at the front of the table, and motioned for Harry to sit next to him. Snape looked a bit miffed, probably because that was his normal seat, but said nothing. He just went to help his grandmother bring the food from the kitchen.

Harry had totally forgotten it was Sunday. He had thought they would be having simple sandwiches, maybe sausage rolls, not an entire table full of food. His mouth watered as Snape and his grandmother brought out pot roast, roast potatoes and carrots and broccoli. His mouth really began to water when he saw the Yorkshire pudding.

They said prayer, which was a bit odd for Harry because the Dursley's weren't really religious, so Harry had never had to pray and Snape never said prayer before meals. ONce again, it was a completely new experience for him. Snape passed around the food. His grandmother gave Harry and Snape tea, while she placed a steaming cup of black coffee in front of his Papaw.

At Harry's raised eyebrow, his Papaw chuckled. "I hate to admit it, but I absolutely hate tea. Loathe it, in fact. I prefer coffee with my meals. Blasphemous, I know, but I can't help it."

"Gonna give yourself a heart attack one of these days," Snape mumbled, blowing on his roast.

"Oh, hush, Severus. I don't see you giving up coffee any time soon, either," he shot back half-heartedly. Snape said nothing, just continued eating, but Harry could see a small amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"So, Harry, how have you been? Are you having a good time living with Severus?" his grandmother asked. Harry had a sense of deja vu.

"The boy's been fine, Rose," his Papaw answered for him.

"Hush, Joe. I was asking Harry, not you.

Harry felt heat rise up his cheeks. "Um, I've been fine. I'm having a good time living with, uh, Severus." Harry peeked at Snape to make sure the man wasn't mad at calling him by his first name. He didn't look mad, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

"That's good, that's good.I'm glad you're having a great time." She nodded her head then took a bite.  She noticed how Harry, despite obviously hungry, was pushing his carrots around on his plate. "You've been feeding the boy regularly, haven't you, Severus? Harry looks like skin and bones!

"Rose!" his Papaw chastised.

The red came back on Snape's face, and was it his imagination, or did Snape look slightly angry? "Of course I've been feeding him! I'm not an incompetent parent," he nearly spat.

His grandmother seemed to realise she had hit a sensitive topic. Snape looked tense, and Harry could feel the tension coming off of him in waves, nearly drowning the good-natured atmosphere from before.

Quickly, before things escalated more, Harry tried to switch topics. "So, um, Where did you get the feathers on the wall in the living room?" he asked.

His question worked. His grandmother stopped starring Snape down and Harry looked at him with a curious look. The tension faded. His grandfather looked slightly relieved that it was over.

He cleared his throat. "Well, as you could probably tell, the gold ones are from your mother. They're the same as yours, after all. The black one is from Sev when he just turned eleven, and the blue one is from James right after their wedding," he answered.

Harry's curiosity peaked when Papaw mentioned his wings. "You can see my wings?"

"Clear as day. We can also see Severus'." His grandmother answered his question, which startled him just slightly.

"But, I thought Muggles couldn't see wings unless someone from the magical world let them with a spell," Harry said, remembering Hermione's letter.

"Well, apparently were not full Muggle, as you put it," his grandfather said. "And by we, I mean me."

"You're a wizard?" Honestly, Harry thought there would be no more surprised, but he guessed he was wrong.

His Papaw guffawed, which quickly turned into a hacking fit. HIs grandmother pounded him on the back. "Oh, no, Harry, I'm not a wizard. I wish I was! Apparently, I'm a descendant of uh, what were they called? Sqeebs? Sqwebs?"

"Squibs," Snape answered for him.

"Squibs! That's what it was! My great-great-great-great-great-and so on and so on- Grandfather was a wizard, and his son was a Squib. No one else from his son's descendants had magic, and the family thought there never will, until Lily came along. It was rather a shock, really. My entire life, there were myths and legends about our family being descendants from winged wizards. My mother would tell me about them as bedtime stories. I never believed them, of course. Then Lily would do the weirdest things that I never could explain. It wasn't until Sev here told us what she was, and demonstrated some of his magic as well that I knew my mother's stories were true. And it wasn't until later, on her eleventh birthday that she got her wings and a wizard from the school came and explained everything else that Severus couldn't."

"Wow," Harry breathed. He looked at Snape with wide eyes, who just shrugged awkwardly.

"D'you know what your great-something grandfather's name was?" he asked, curious. Perhaps he could look him up later when he got back to Snape's endless library.

"I believe it started with an S. Salamander? Sali...Salimu...? I can't really remember. Something lizard-like, I believe. An odd sounding name, for sure."

Snape's eyes widened, then narrowed as he put on a thoughtful face, his brows furrowing. Apparently this was news to him as well. His lips moved silently, and Harry could practically see the gears turning in his head.

Harry turned to his grandmother. "Are you descendent from Squibs as well? Is that how you can see wings, too?"

"No, dear. I don't think I am. If I am, my family certainly never talked about it." She chuckled, her bell-like laughter ringing. "I thought Joe was crazy when he said Lily and Severus had wings, but then when that wizard came from the school, he waved his wand and suddenly I could see them, full span and glistening in the sunlight! They were honestly the most beautiful wings I have ever seen! Sorry, Severus," she apologized. Snape didn't answer her, but just waved away her apology. He was still mumbling things under his breath and his narrowed eyes were shifting across the table at rapid speed.

"I'm so glad you got your mother's wings, Harry dear. I liked James', but Lily's suit you better I think." Harry grinned wide.

They continued eating, only speaking when passing the mentioned foods. Harry greatly enjoyed the pudding, and the roast was all but gone within a minute. Snape didn't eat anything else, still caught up in his thoughts. He pushed his food around with his fork.

They moved back to the living room. Snape excused himself to the bathroom, and went down the hallway. Finally, it was just Harry and his grandparents. Harry sat across from them on the couch, finally relaxed.

"So, grandmother-" Harry began, only to be cut off.

"Nana."

"Huh?"

His grandmother smiled. "Call me Nana. Or Nan, if you wish to shorten it."

Harry blushed, which he seemed to be doing quite a lot lately. "So, um, Nana, how long have you known Mr. Sn-uh, Severus?"

She brightened even more at the mention of her adopted son. "Oh, I've known Sev for a long time. Very long. What age was it that he met Lily, dear? Seven? Eight?"

"Five."

She snapped her fingers, nodding as she remembered. "That's right. Five. It was around his birthday that he met her in the park right down the road. She came in babbling about magic and I just had to meet the boy who put those thoughts into her head. When he made a bulb bloom into a flower just by staring at it, oh! I got the shock of my life right then." Her eyes got a faraway look, and a small smile tugged at her lips.

"That reminds me," his Papaw said, then got up out of the chair. He wobbled with his cane to the mantle and picked up a book that was laying flat on top of it. He wheezed as he blew away the dust then sat right next to Harry. His Nana's eyes lit up when she saw what her husband had and went to sit on the other side of her grandson.

"This," he announced, turning the book over so Harry could see. "is a photo album. It has pictures of everyone in the family, including Severus." He flipped the page, and the first picture showed a rather large baby with with light color hair gazing at the camera, a finger in their mouth and eyes sparkling. Underneath it read "Petunia Denise Evans. Born June 24th, 1959."

"That's Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked, bewildered. There was no way that adorable baby was his evil aunt!

His Nana nodded, although she seemed a bit sad. "That's our little Tuney. She used to be so innocent." Harry didn't miss the past tense ‘used to', and he frowned.

"I'm sure you don't want to have any more reminders of her, Harry," she said, then began to flip frantically through the pages of baby Petunia. She stopped on a picture of a new baby, and this time Harry could tell exactly who they were before even reading the words underneath.

"That's mum!" he exclaimed. Even though the picture was black and white, there was no mistaking the brilliant green eyes and vibrant shock of red hair that curled on her round head.

Both of his grandparents smiled softly. "Mmhmm," his grandmother confirmed. "This was taken around a month after she was born."

"She's so cute," Harry cooed.

His Nana got a rather mischievous glint in her eyes. "If you think this is cute, just wait until you see Severus when he was young."

Intrigued, Harry leaned forward more, and promptly busted out laughing at the image that greeted him. It wasn't that it was funny, it just wasn't what he was expecting. Little Snape was looking at the camera with wide eyes, an innocent smile plastered on his face. Two of his front teeth were missing, and his much shorter hair had a slight curl to it. Beside him, an equally innocent Lily was smiling, holding up bunny ears behind her friend's head.

"That can't be Severus! He looks like a completely different person!" Harry said, leaning forward to get a closer look at the picture. He tried to spot any similarities between the grown up and the child, but the only thing he could see was the hair and eyes. Even the nose looked different!

His Nana flipped the page. "He may not look like the Severus you know now, but just wait. You'll see the resemblance soon enough."

.'.

After lunch, and after Rose had started showing Harry some rather embarrassing photos, Severus excused himself to the bathroom. He walked down the hallway and by passed the bathroom all together, instead heading straight forward to his old room. He shut the door with a soft click, and the sounds of laughter from the living room became muffled.

He strode over to his bookshelf, looking for a specific book that had been forgotten long ago when he moved. His curiosity had been peaked during lunch, and if what Joe had said was true, he needed to make sure.

He found the book, wedged between an old coloring book that had faded to dull colors and between a glossary on Potion plants. The book was old, way older than Severus, and used to belong to his mother before she died. Carefully, as to not rip any of the pages, he opened the book and laid it atop his bare mattress.

History of the Hogwarts Founders was an old book, and was very rare. Only very few scholars had it, and Severus was lucky enough to have a great-uncle who had gotten it by mistake at a pawn shop. He had given it to his mother Eileen, not knowing exactly what it was. It was basically what the title said: the history of each of the Hogwarts founders, starting from their childhood and going all the way to their deaths and exploring their family tree.

He gently flipped through the pages of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw before stopping at Slytherin. He read through Salazar's story, looked through the limbs of the family tree. He read them once, twice, three times. Nowhere did it say that Salazar had a son, especially a Squib in the family line. Did Joe just make it up? Or was Severus just overanalyzing things?

A knock on his door made him jump, and he nearly ripped the page he was holding in half. He cursed, looking at the small tear in the corner. Shutting it slowly, he got up and went to the front of the room, turning the knob.

Rose looked at him from the other side, her fist raised to knock again. "Yes?" Severus asked.

"I knew you weren't in the restroom. You took way too long." She sat down on his bed, and Severus rushed over to catch the book before it could fall on the ground. He placed it back on the shelf, and he made a mental note to get it when they left.

She patted the bare mattress beside her, and he sat down. "What's going on, Sev?" she asked.

He just shrugged. "I'm doing some research. I found a book that was needed to help me, so I came back here."

Rose looked to the bookshelf, studying the now lopsided book. Severus could tell by the look on her face that her curiosity wasn't the real reason she had come. Her brown eyes had a faraway look, almost melancholy, and the corners of her mouth tugged down in a frown.

"Severus," she said, and her tone was completely different from before, which shocked him slightly. He had never heard her sound like this before. "What do you intend to do with Harry once the school year starts?"

"Pardon?"

She looked at him. "Once school starts for Harry, the Dursley's legal ties with him will vanish." Severus flinched at the fury in her tone when she mentioned her daughter and son-in-law. He also didn't miss the way she called them by their last name. He was glad he wasn't on the receiving end of her fury.

"Once the guardianship is void, he will be a ward of the Ministry, will he not?" she asked.

Slowly, he nodded. She looked slightly pained. "Joe and I can't take care of him, no matter how much we want to. We're too old, and we both know our time is almost gone. Don't look so sad, Severus. You knew it as well, didn't you?" She touched his hand, now clammy and cold, and he squeezed, not really wanting to acknowledge the truth, but he nodded. He had known for a while that they would die fairly soon.

"With Joe's lung disease and my heart troubles, we'll be lucky if we live to see Harry graduate. I won't let him become a ward of that dreadful ministry. I just won't. Severus." Her tone demanded instant attention, and he snapped his head up from looking at his feet. Brown met black.

"I know you're not technically Harry's uncle, but you are the closest thing to a family he has besides me and Joe. Can I trust you to do everything in your power to make sure he doesn't fall in the hands of the ministry?" Her eyes bore into his, and for a fleeting second, he wondered if she was magical. It felt like she was using Legilimency on him, seeing inside his head and tumbling through his innermost thoughts.

"Severus, if it comes down to it, can you be willing to get a guardianship for Harry, or perhaps adoption? I know your rivalry with James will make it difficult for you, but Joe and I don't have much time left. I know if the ministry get's their paws on him, they'll make his life a living hell, one worse than his time with Petunia and Vernon. Please," She squeezed his hand, almost painfully. Severus could see the emotions behind her eyes, the pain, the sadness, the anger, rolling like storm clouds, one always taking control for a fleeting second before being taken over by another. He nodded, and suddenly all the emotions were swept away, and relief took their place. She leaned forward and hugged him, sagging against him. He wrapped his arms around her.

"Thank you, Severus. I'm so glad you can help. Ever since I heard that Petunia and Vernon were taken away, I was worrying constantly about him. I tried to find out where he was, but no one would tell me. You can't imagine my relief when I found out he was with you. I know you'll take good care of him."

She stayed like that, being held in his arms. Severus stared at the wall, his mind racing. Had he just agreed to adopting Harry, the child of his worst enemy? He had only expected to take care of him until the summer, then drop him off with Rose and Joe, but now this changed everything. He would be stuck with the spawn of James Potter for Merlin knows how long.

He looked at the woman who had practically raised him, being the only mother figure in his life, then decided he had made the right choice. Harry wasn't just James' son, he was also Lily's, his best friend and pseudo-sister's. If he would do it for anyone, it would be for her. He would be the best guardian for the boy, no matter who doubted him. He would raise Harry, and treat him better than his own father had, making sure the rest of his childhood would no longer be filled with fear and hurt.

Finally, Rose pulled away. She straightened her hair and her shirt, going back to the strong woman he had looked up to his entire childhood. She squeezed his hand once more, then without saying a word, rejoined her husband and grandson in the living room. Severus followed, his mind still stuck on their conversation. He had just come to his room for the history of Slytherin, and now here he was agreeing to become a father!

"Look who I found!" Rose said as she nudged her way beside Harry.

Joe looked up from the photo album. "Well, hey there stranger! Whadja do, fall in?" He waggled his white eyebrows, letting his oversensitive son know he was joking.

Severus sat down in the chair opposite the couch. "Har har." He spotted the picture that Joe was showing Harry, and instantly he could feel splotches of red begin to creep up his neck.

"Why are you showing him that?" he practically squealed, then tried to take the album away. His adopted father was too fast, and swiped the book away from Severus' reach.

"The boy needs to know who his fearsome caretaker really is!" Joe said, laughing.

The rest of the evening was spent showing the rest of the album, then telling fond memories of the old days, when Rose and Joe could actually go places, and of Severus and Lily. What started out as an invitation for lunch was quickly extended for dinner. With both of them stuffed with the amazing cooking by Rose, they excused themselves, promises of later visits on their lips. Hugs and kisses were exchanged, and Harry plucked a feather from his wing as a gift to his grandparents. They teared up, then made promises to frame it beside the others.

Harry and Hermione wrote back to each other multiple times, each talking about the things they have done over the last couple of days. Harry told Hermione about his amazing trip to his grandparent's not aware of the promise his new guardian had made. Hermione had responded about the new puppy she had gotten, and how sad she was going to be when she had to leave her for Hogwarts. They found out that they were not far from each other, a few hours tops, and so the letters didn't take long to get back and forth. It took perhaps a day to get five letters back and forth.

They talked of many things, and finally, the prospect of a sleepover was brought up. Hermione was on board instantly, and Harry, never being one for much social interaction, especially with one of the opposite gender, was hesitant at first. After a few more letters, Hermione had finally convinced him to ask his guardian.

Harry poked in head into the open bathroom door. Severus was brushing his teeth, staring at his reflection with tired eyes, wearing nothing but pajama bottoms and the strange bandage that was constantly wrapped tightly around his left forearm. He scratched at his new beard that he had been too lazy to shave off. It curled, much like his hair had when he was younger, making him look like a hobo Santa. His wings were a mess, but Harry had no doubt they would be back to near perfection by mid-day. The man seemed to have a talent Harry hadn't mastered yet when it came to smoothing down ruffled bed-head wings.

"Um, Severus? Can I ask you a question?" Harry asked. He was no longer afraid to call the man by anything but sirs. In fact, Severus had insisted on it. He had started to get annoyed with the constant string of sirs, and told him to call him by his first name or nothing at all. He had plenty of it during school, he had said, which amused Harry. It was almost exactly what his grandfather had said.

Severus spit into the sink, then wiped his mouth with a hand towel. He turned to Harry, them motioned for him to follow. Harry followed him to the kitchen, then waited until Severus' coffee was made and the man took a sip of the steaming black liquid. Severus was practically a selective mute in the mornings until he had his coffee. Harry had learned early on to never try and start a full blown conversation until after, unless he wanted answers in grunts and half-blinks. Today was an exception. Hermione was patiently waiting for an answer, and Harry didn't want to keep her waiting.

After the first sip, Severus sighed and leaned his head back on his chair. It was silent for a few seconds, then the caffeine finally kicked in. He turned to Harry, a questioning eyebrow raised, which Harry knew was prompting him to continue his question.

"I've been writing to Hermione, you know, that girl from the shop? And she wants to know-what? Why are you smiling like that?" Severus' lips were turned upward in a small knowing smirk, and he eyed Harry from the side of his eye, as if he knew something Harry didn't.

Severus simply hummed, and took another sip of his coffee. "It's nothing of importance. Continue."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Hermione is my friend, if that's where your mind is going. Just friends. That's it."

Severus waved away his accusations, and Harry huffed. "Anyway..." he drawled. "Hermione and I were writing to each other, and we were wondering--well actually, she was wondering, I just went along with it--if it would be okay if uh, we can have a sleepover sometime before school starts."

Harry could tell that his new offer was doing nothing to stop the the accusations that were running through Severus' head, and the man's smirk rose even higher. "Just as friends," Harry stressed.

Severus put his hands up in a surrender position, although Harry knew the conversation would no doubt arise again at another time. Severus finished his coffee then took it to the sink. Now that he was through, Harry knew he would answer in more words than a sentence.

"I will have to think on that one," Severus answered. He rolled his shoulders, and his wings fluttered with the movement. "I don't know her parents, and I would have to meet them before I make any decisions. Where would this sleepover take place, anyway?"

Harry stalled. They hadn't discussed that. "Erm, here?" he said, although it came out more like a question. Severus made a noise of acknowledgement. "We'll see."

He went to the living room, where he plopped down in his favorite chair. Harry sat down on the couch, folding his legs underneath him. "We are going to have visitors today, so I want you to be on your best behavior when they arrive," Severus announced.

I hope you shave your beard before then, Harry thought. You might just scare them away. Severus' eyes narrowed, and Harry had a fleeting moment of panic where he thought Severus could read his mind, but then pushed it away. That was just silly.

"Okay, sir," he replied. He made a mental note to pick out his best polo, as it was way too hot for a dress shirt. "When will they be here?"

"The Longbottoms will be here around mid-afternoon. I have to brew a potion for the eldest of the family, and her grandson will be accompanying her," he answered. "I can trust that you will keep the Longbottom boy busy? I believe he is around your age, just a day older, in fact, so I hope it won't be terribly hard to find something in common."

Harry nodded enthusiastically. Finally he had someone to interact with beside the birds when he flew. Writing to Hermione was great and all, but it just wasn't the same. Perhaps he could even make friends with this Longbottom boy. It would be his first real friend that wouldn't get scared away by Dudley and his gang.

Severus looked at the clock, then sat up. "I have to finish getting ready." He rubbed at his beard. "I need to shave this off before I scare our guests away."

Harry froze. He met the other man's stare, the wprds oh crap going at a constant stream in his head. Severus winked, then went up the stairs to finish his morning routine. Harry stayed rooted to his seat, then decided it was just coincidence. He went to make himself breakfast, his bare feet slapping on tile. He found cereal that wasn't near expiration date then poured milk. He went back into the living room and watched television until the bottom of his cereal got all soggy and uneatable. He washed his bowl, then noting that he had nearly three hours to spare, went back to his room. He changed clothes, settling for dark pants and a deep red polo.

Spin slithered over to Harry, curious when he pulled out a thin book. It was the same book from the store, with the words cat, owl, snake, and badger written multiple times from cover to cover.

‘Whatsss that?' Spin hissed.

‘It's jussst a book. I haven't looked at it sinccce I got it, and I was curiousss," he hissed back.

He opened the thin cover, and instead of the four words he was expecting to see, only one repeated itself. ‘Badger' was written in fancy writing, covering the pages top to bottom.

"Huh, that's odd," Harry murmured.

‘What? What isss wrong, Harry?'

"It's different this time," he answered. He flipped through the pages, but the word did not change. He studied the book, holding up to the light. Nothing changed. "That's so weird. I wonder what it means?"

‘Perhapsss it can tell your future,' Spin hissed helpfully.

Harry shrugged, giving a doubious look. "I don't know how a badger can affect my future, but whatever." He set the book aside on his pillow, right next to his dinosaur. With a quick thought, he grabbed the stuffed toy and hid it under the bed. It just wouldn't do to seem like a child to a new guest.

He pulled out his Sherlock book, noticing that he only had a few more stories to read. "Hey, Spin, do you want me to read to you?"

His snake curled up next to him, his head peering out from his wrapped body. ‘Oh, yesss pleassse. I love it when you read to me and Hedwig.'

~.~

Before Harry knew it, three hours had passed. He was just finishing the final story when he heard the Floo come to life. He bookmarked the page the shut the book.

‘Okay, Ssspin, don't try and ssscare the guessst,' he instructed his snake.

Spin nodded his head, then slithered back to his normal spot on the desk, right underneath the lamp. He made himself look presentable, which looked no different from how he normally looked.

He ran down the stairs, noting for the first time the absence of meows and a certain black kitten. His thoughts were interrupted when Severus stepped from his room, clean-shaven and hair freshly washed. Harry really didn't see the point of the latter. It would just get greasy again with the potion fumes.

Two figures stood in front of the fireplace, dusting soot from their clothes. The taller, an older woman, raised her head. Harry stopped in his tracks when he saw the vulture hat and fox fur scarf. What really topped it off was the freakishly huge red handbag that hung from her side. Her wings looked recently groomed, and despite just leaving the fireplace, not a speck of soot was spotted on them. The boy was much noticeably shorter, around Harry's height. His ruffled dark hair fell into his eyes, and he was constantly fidgeting. HIs wings resembled a fluttery mass of pigeons. Unlike his grandmother's his were covered tip to bottom in soot, and Harry couldn't tell what the color was supposed to be.

Severus poked him in the back as he passed, prompting him to pick up his jaw and walk forward to greet his guests.

He held out his hand to the older lady. "Hello, ma'am. I'm Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to have you here," he said, trying his hardest to mimic how Petunia greeted new guests when they came over to Privet Drive.

The woman's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. She grasped his hand, her sharp nails piercing the back of his knuckles, and shook furiously. "Goodness me! Harry Potter! What a pleasure to meet you! I'm Augusta Longbottom, and this is my grandson, Neville."

Harry could feel his ears turn pink and the woman's obvious excitement at meeting him. He turned to the Neville. "Hello!" he said cheerfully.

Neville's face burned red, and he jumped when Harry addressed him. "Oh, uh, hello." He meekly waved back. Augusta frowned at her grandson's answer, and her lips pursed like she had sucked on a lemon.

Severus turned to Harry and Neville. "I'll be discussing a potion commission with Augusta. I want you two to stay far away from my lab. I'm sure there is something you can do to occupy your time." Severus eyed Harry, and he nodded rapidly. "Good." He began to head towards his lab, but then turned around. He waved his wand, and all the soot disappeared from Neville's person and wings, showing the rusty color that lay beneath the grey.

They disappeared behind the secret bookcase that led to his lab, the large door closing with a resounding slam.

"So, Neville, what do you want to do?" Harry asked. Neville shrugged, staring at his shoes. He looked up and opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it and went back to staring at his shoes. Harry blew out air, making his bangs rustle.

"I'm not going to bite, you know. You can say whatever." Neville's face went an even deeper shade of red, if possible.

"Do you like to fly?" came the shy voice. The question shocked Harry, and he tried not to let it show. He didn't peg the other boy as the flying type.

"Uh, yeah. I love to fly! Although I only learned a couple of days ago, so I may not be all that great," he replied.

Neville's face perked up, and he lost some of the red color. "Really? I-I'm not all that great either, but perhaps we can race to see who's better?"

Harry's eyes shone at the challenge. "All right. We can do that in the backyard. Severus put up some spells so the neighbors can't see us."

They walked to the door, and Harry quickly slid open the door, making a bang that made both of them jump. As soon as Harry's feet hit the porch, he took off. Neville must have had the same idea, because he was right beside Harry in seconds.

Harry's wings shone golden in the light, and Neville's lost some of the rusty color and took on a more deep red tone. The other boy wobbled a bit, but flapped on. Harry whooped then sped towards the biggest tree, going up at the last second before hitting the trunk and speeding past the limbs.

Neville huffed behind him, flapping his wings harder and harder, but he kept close to Harry. Wanting to win, Harry did a one-eighty, then flew right back downwards. He knew if Severus came out of the house right then, Harry would no doubt be in trouble for trying such a risky move, but right then he didn't really seem to care. All of his adrenaline was pumping, making his eyes only see the skies ahead.

Neville reached the top of the tree, then tried to copy Harry's move. It resulted in him just flopping backwards and falling a few feet, but regaining his balance after nearly hitting a limb.

"Okay!" Neville wheezed. "I think you won!"

Harry skidded to a stop on the grass, then looked up at Neville, his hands shielding the light from his eyes. "Yeah?" he called back. He was slightly winded himself, although he wouldn't admit that. They had just started, and now they were already done!

Neville nodded, then slowly flew back down. His feet gently touched the grass, right in front of Harry. "Oh, yeah. You're way better. I thought you said you only learned a couple of days ago! You were flying like you've done it your whole life!"

"My dad was a great flyer, apparently," Harry replied, a bit sheepish. "I guess I got it from him. You didn't do so bad yourself! Who taught you?"

The question and praise combo seemed to catch Neville off guard. "Oh, I uh, my mum was a good flyer, or so my Gran told me. She used to play for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. My great Uncle Algie taught me how to fly. He was excited when I got my wings, so he began to teach me right away. Apparently he thought I was a Squib, but then my wings showed up, and he got super happy. I'm not all that great, not nearly as good as my mum anyway, but I guess if I wanted, I could try out for my house team." Neville paused, thinking, then continued. "Second year, of course," he added on, as if Harry didn't know what year to try out.

They headed to the living room, where they both sat down on the carpet by the fireplace. "So what house are you going to be in?" Harry asked.

"Most likely Hufflepuff," the other boy replied, picking leaves and twigs from his feathers. "My Gran wants me to be in Gryffindor, like my dad, but I don't think I'm brave enough."

Harry made a face. "Well, that's just silly. She shouldn't be the one to decide how to live your life. It's yours! You can be whoever you want to be! Besides, I don't think just because you're not in Gryffindor you can't be brave. Everyone is brave in their own way. You don't have to fight a war to be noble and stuff, like the Gryffindors."

Neville considered his logic. "I guess you're right. But Gran's gonna get awfully mad if I don't get in there."

"You should be able to decide, but if you want to please your Gran, then go for Gryffindor, I guess," Harry said, not wanting to argue any more.

"So what house do you think you'll get in?" Neville asked, turning his question on Harry.

Harry's mind went completely blank. "I...I don't know," he answered truthfully.

Neville's eyebrows rose. "Really? I would have thought you would have jumped at the chance to be in Gryffindor. Both of your parents were in there, and you're the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, after all!"

"I'm more than just a title," Harry grumbled.

Neville backtracked immediately. "I-I didn't mean it like that! I just meant-"

"I know what you meant, Neville."

Neville fidgeted with his wing. "Well, if I get into Hufflepuff, maybe you could get sorted there, too. That way I won't be so alone."

Harry smiled softly. "Yeah, maybe." Although as he said that, he knew Hufflepuff wasn't going to be an option to him. He knew his choices were either going to be Gryffindor or Slytherin. Being around both Heads of Houses certainly influenced him, but he didn't voice that. If Neville knew the Boy-Who-Lived was considering being in Slytherin, the all around "dark" house, he wouldn't hear the end of it. If he somehow managed to get in there, he really hoped Neville would still stay his friend.

Well this friendship is heading off to a great start, Harry thought. He couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or truthful, which puzzled him.

"Hey," Harry said suddenly, which startled Neville who was staring at the empty hearth. "Do you like snakes?"

"Well, I have a pet toad, so not really, but they do look cool. Why?"

Harry leaned forward. "Because I have a pet snake, that's why."

Harry noticed Neville's eyes fill with the slightest bit of fear, although he didn't know why. It wasn't like he was going to use his snake for mass destruction. He ignored it. "Do you want to see him? He's really nice, and he doesn't bite. He really lazy, so he won't do anything."

Neville contemplated the pros and cons than reluctantly nodded. "Great!" Harry said, then grabbed the other boy's arm and pulled him up the stairs.

Spin was right where he left him, curled up underneath the lamp. His black head popped up when Harry and Neville walked in.

‘Hello, Harry. Who'sss thisss?'

"Spin, this is Neville," Harry said in English. He didn't want to freak the other boy out by knowing the Boy-Who-Lived could speak Parseltongue. If Severus was scared by it, then a shy boy like Neville would run away screaming.

"Uh, hello, Spin," Neville said awkwardly, bringing up two fingers in a half-wave.

Harry walked over and picked up his pet. ‘Jussst play it cool, okay? Don't asssk me any quesstionsss. I don't want Neville knowing I can ssspeak to sssnakes. Just act like a normal sssnake,' he whisper-hissed under his breath so Neville couldn't hear.

‘I am a normal sssnake,' Spin hissed back, offended.

Harry turned around, proudly showing off his pet. He let Spin slither up his arm, his cool belly leaving goosebumps in his trail. He wrapped around his shoulders, then flicked Harry on the ear with his tongue, which made him squeal at the tickling touch.

Neville's shaky hand came up to pet him on the head with one finger. Spin butted his head towards Neville, and Neville stepped back a step. Spin cocked his head to the side, confused.

"He's not going to bite," Harry said, then demonstrated rubbing a finger down Spin's scaly body, making the snake hiss in pleasure. His hold tightened around Harry's shoulders, happy at getting a lot of attention.

Neville brought his hand back, this time leaving his finger on top of Spin's head for a few seconds then pulling away. Spin hissed sadly as Neville took his hand back.

‘Did I do sssomething wrong?' he hissed at Harry. Harry simply patted Spin's head in reassurance, then placed him back on the table.

"Don't you have a cage or something for him?" Neville asked warily, eyeing the desk.

Harry looked at Spin, who gave a slight glare at the word cage. "I, uh, don't think he'll like that much. He's more of a free-roamer, if you know what I mean. He only stays in my room anyway, so it won't matter if  he has a cage or not."

Neville looked slightly uncomfortable at the answer, but before he could voice his opinion, Harry sat down on his bed and patted the space beside him, telling Neville to sit. Neville sat, then his eyes widened as he spotted the little black book that was on Harry's pillow.

"Harry," he breathed, then gently picked it up. "Do you know what this is?"

"Uh, no?" Harry said confused. "It's just a normal black book, right?"

Neville shook his head. "This is a prophecy book! It can tell your upcoming future and it writes it down so you can read it! It's very vague, though. It usually only writes in very few words, so you usually have to figure it out yourself. But they're very cool!"

"So that's why it cost nearly fifty Galleons at the store," Harry thought ruefully. He ignored Spin's knowing look, and the way he gave a boasting hiss as Neville's words, like I told you so.

"Oh, so that's why the words changed," Harry said, taking the book and opening it. The word Badger was still written, but the text had grown in size slightly, looking more prominent.

"Badger?" Neville said, bewildered. "What does that mean?"

Harry shook his head. "I have no idea." He closed the book, then placed it back on his pillow.

"Maybe you could ask your guardian," Neville suggested.

"Maybe," Harry replied, but he knew he wasn't going to do that. If it was his future, he was going to be the one to figure it out by himself. He didn't want anyone interfering. Before Severus could find out he had the book, he put it in his dresser drawer, right under his pants.

"Can it tell your future, too?" he asked Neville.

Neville shook his head. "You're the owner of it now. It only tells the future of the person who holds it in their possession. If you were to give it away, then maybe it would tell the future of that other person, but it may get jumbled up with yours because you still bought it."

"Oh. So giving these as gifts are a no-go then?"

Neville cracked a smile. "Pretty much. They're also considered bogus, since practically anyone can have one, so no one really buys them anyway. But I think they're real. One time, my uncle had one and it said the words ‘sky' and ‘fall' over and over, and then a meteor fell down and nearly hit him when he was stargazing! If it wasn't for his quick shield charm, I think some of the fragments could have killed him."

Harry's eyes widened. "Woah!"

Their conversation was cut short when Severus called to them from the living room. "Harry! Mr. Longbottom! You need to come down."

"Aw, I have to leave already?" Neville whined.

Harry felt a rush of happiness at the boy's words. Not so much that Neville had to leave, because he didn't want him to leave either, but because he had managed to make a friend, and he liked him! He wanted to stay and be around him! That had never happened before. Dudley had always scared them away, but now there was no bully to prevent Neville from being around him.

"Maybe we can ask them if you can stay a bit longer," Harry suggested as he stomped down the stairs.

"I hope so."

They stopped in front of the adults. Augusta Longbottom still had her giant red handbag slung over her shoulder. It seemed she never took that thing off.

"Neville," she said, and Neville jumped into place beside her. "Come on. We need to leave."

Neville looked at Harry, and Harry didn't miss the look that was plastered on his face. It's not or never.

"Um, Mrs. Longbottom," Harry said, his voice barely audible. Severus looked at him, one eyebrow raised, wondering what Harry was doing. Augusta turned from the fireplace.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked between Severus and the older woman. "I was wondering if it was okay if Neville could stay a bit longer? Um, if that's alright with you...?" He looked at both of them, making sure Severus knew he was asking him as well.

Augusta and Severus exchanged glances. Severus' eyebrow was still quirked.

"I have some errands to run, so it may take a while to come back. Is it okay if Neville stays here while I do that?" Augusta asked. "I'll make sure Neville stays on his best behavior."

Neville and Harry gasped, looking at each other wide eyes. They stared down Severus.

"Is it okay, Severus? Please?" Harry egged on.

"I suppose it will be alright. I'm sure I can find something to occupy these two while you are gone. I may just make them help me pickle some parts for potions," he answered, giving a very evil smirk at the two boys. Harry and Neville gulped.

Augusta laughed, like she caught on to something they didn't. "Thank you Severus. I'll try and be fast. I'll be back after lunch. Be good, Neville!" She threw the powder into the flames and was gone.

"You, uh, weren't serious about the pickling thing, were you?" Harry asked tentatively.

Severus scoffed. "Of course not. Nothing can go into the lab until Augusta's potion is done. But if you two cause any havoc, I'll make sure pickling frog legs will be the least of your worries," he said, and gave Harry a warning look. "I don't want you to be doing another flying stunt like what you did last time."

"What!" Harry exclaimed. "How did you know about that?"

"Call it a sixth sense," he answered, giving Harry more questions than answers. Once again, Harry could swear the man could read minds.

"It's almost time for lunch. Why don't you two help me in making food?" Severus said, making it more of a demand then a question. Harry rushed to help, and Neville trailed behind, unsure of what to do.

"What are we having?" Harry asked as he washed his hands. Neville followed Harry's lead. His hands slipped while getting soap, and the soap dispenser fell inside the sink, making the liquid go everywhere. Neville stuttered out an apology while trying to right it again.

"I'm going to let you decide today. My brain is still on potion mode. I don't want to accidentally poison you while making sandwiches," Severus joked. Harry grinned at the rare comical side of Severus and rushed to the fridge.

He picked out some chicken and cheese and rummaged in the cupboard, looking for tortillas. "What are you making?" Severus asked, eyeing the selection in Harry's hands.

"Chicken and cheese quesadillas," he answered.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "For lunch? That seems more like a dinner meal than lunch." Harry just shrugged. It was the first thing that popped into his head, and he rolled with it.

Neville just stood in the doorway while Harry and Severus worked, giving Harry the impression he didn't know what to do in the kitchen.

"Hey, Neville!" Harry called to the dark haired boy. "Come help me cut the chicken."

Severus eyed the boy warily as he grabbed a knife, and Harry made sure to scoot away a bit. Just as Harry thought, Neville was a mess with a knife. Instead of cutting the chicken into neat little strips, he shredded it, making little chicken pieces go everywhere. Once, he sliced his pinkie, and Severus had to take him aside and help heal him, leaving Harry to finish the rest.

Finally, after Neville had his finger bandaged, and after Harry had added more to the quesadillas and heated them up, lunch was served. Neville apologized over and over as he shuffled to the table.

"I'm really sorry. I'm a menace at cooking. I don't know how I'm going to survive Hogwarts, especially in Potions!" Neville said.

"You better learn quickly, then. I don't want any exploding cauldrons in my class," Severus remarked, giving Neville a ‘no-nonsense' look as he ate a bite.

Harry was confused for a second, then he remembered that Severus was the Potions professor. Harry tried to hide his shudder. The man could be strict at times, almost scary, and that was just at home. He didn't want to see how the man acted with a room full of children and fire.

Neville gulped, most likely thinking along the same lines Harry was. "I'll try, sir."

As Harry ate, he expected Hades to rub against his leg and beg for scraps, but nothing happened. He recalled that Hades wasn't there to trip him on the stairs either, and he looked around for the little black menace.

"What in the world are you looking for, Harry?" Severus asked. Neville was staring at him curiously, a bit of chicken connected by a string of cheese hanging from his mouth.

"Hades. Where is that kitten?" Harry said, peering under the table. Severus smirked. "He's gone," he replied.

Harry shot back up. "Gone?"

Severus nodded. "He's over at your grandparents'."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "When did you go back over there? You've been here for the last three days!"

"I went back shortly after you went to sleep. I needed to talk with your grandmother about some things."

Harry head cocked to the side. "What things?"

Severus' mouth tilted downward a bit, but he didn't look unpleased. He just looked slightly worried. "Things you'll find out about later."

Harry let it go, not wanting to make Severus angry by pushing the subject. Instead, he turned the topic to Neville.

"Hey, Neville. My friend Hermione and I were planning on having a slumber party later on, sometime before we go to Hogwarts. If we can have one-" he eyed Severus out of the corner of his eye, and the man raised an eyebrow, "-and if your Gran will let you, do you want to come?"

Neville started at being addressed, not expecting the question. "Uh, y-yeah, sure."

Severus huffed, rolling his eyes slightly. "I still need to meet your friend's parents before I can decide on anything. Do they even know that you are planning this?"

Harry nodded. "I believe so. She said it was her parent's idea, anyway. ‘A way to get to know other kids and to make friends!' they said, so they shouldn't disagree with it."

Severus' eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Hmm," he hummed.

"How do you boys feel about flying again after lunch?" Severus asked halfway through lunch.

Harry and Neville looked at each other. Neville looked a bit unsure, but Harry was all for it. "Yeah!" he answered for the both of them.

After lunch, Severus did as he promised. He swooped into the air like a rocket, Harry close behind. Neville started a bit later, looking slightly nervous now that someone else was observing his flying. Harry and Neville made a game, a sort of mid-air hide-and-seek, and Severus was the score keeper. Severus made a boundary around the house so Harry and Neville wouldn't accidentally fly into the street or have the neighbors see two kids with wings.

With Neville counting, Harry tried to find a spot, but he soon realized it was a bit harder than he thought. There was nowhere to hide mid-air, and with the other boy having wings as well, he would no doubt find Harry in no time. Panicking, because Neville was quickly reaching one-hundred, he looked down at Severus for help. He shrugged, refusing to take part in the game and pick sides.

Right as Neville reached one hundred, Harry managed to balance himself on the roof, right behind the chimney. For a moment, he thought he had found a good spot, but then Neville quickly turned around and headed straight for him. With a start, Harry realised one of his wings were poking out behind the brick tower, his bright feathers making a shining golden beacon for Neville to spot easily.

"Awe, come on!" Harry said as Neville reached to tap him out. Before Neville could touch him, however, he zipped away, flying in the opposite direction.

"Hey! That's cheating!" Neville zoomed after him, and they both laughed as they chased each other, the hide-and-seek game forgotten. Harry managed to get Severus in the mix, and all three had a grand time with their new game.

Halfway through, where Harry was gladly declaring himself the winner, another person joined the trio in the air. Augusta flew with her slightly withered wings, flapping right in front of the group.

"I hate to break up the fun, but it's time to go, Neville," she said.

Neville looked a bit put out, but went with his grandmother, promising to write. Harry waved from the air until they went inside and he could no longer see them.

"Do you think he could come over again later?" he asked Severus. Severus simply shrugged, saying it depended on his work.

.'.

Afterwords, Harry went back to his room, no doubt to write to his friend, Hermione, and update her on what Severus said. Severus stayed in the living room, waiting until he was sure the potion was done heating. He finished it, bottling and labeling the purple potion, and set it on his shelf to mail later.

After ten, and after he was sure Harry was finally asleep, he went outside. The moon barely shone, and the stars were hidden behind clouds, making it ink black. He spread his wings, sure that nobody could see him, with his dark wings and clothing, and took off, heading for his parent's house.

His feet touched the pavement of the sidewalk, and he walked the rest of the way.  There were no lights on down the road, which made him blend in even more.

He knocked sharply three times, and Rose's face appeared. "Severus! I wasn't expecting you until later. Come in, come in. We have much to discuss."

Severus stepped over the threshold. He could hear Joe's snores echo down the hallway. He sat in his usual spot on the couch, and smiled when Rose offered him a cup of tea.

"So, Severus, are you ready?" she asked. "I already messaged Dumbledore. He and that Ministry official should be here soon."

Severus nodded. "Good. Let's get this over with"

Not ten minutes after, the fireplace roared to life, and two figures stepped out. Dumbledore met them with his normal merry cheer, and Madame Bones dusted soot off of her ministry work clothes. He chose her, not only because he considered her one of his few close friends, but he knew with certainty that she would help in every way possible and make sure that not a word was breathed outside the walls that they were speaking.

"Severus!" she said when she spotted who was seated on the couch.

"Hello, Amelia. Please, sit down. We have a lot to discuss."

She sat, although she looked confused. It seemed Dumbledore didn't inform her of why she was present.

"What do you need me for?" she asked.

He took in a deep breath, and looked to his mother. She nodded her head, giving him the courage he needed to continue. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and he had a small smile.

"I want to adopt Harry Potter," he said.

Amelia sucked in a breath. "Severus, are you sure?"

He nodded. "I am sure. I have been living with him for a while now, and I know how his previous guardians had treated him. If there is a way to erase his pain, and to give him a life that he will enjoy, then I will do everything in my power to do so. So I want to adopt him."

"Does the boy want this?"

It was Severus' turn to suck in a breath, but it wasn't of shock, but a short, sharp one, full of pain. He didn't know. He didn't know if the boy would want him. And why should he? He was the one responsible for his mother's murder. But he didn't know that.

In just a short few weeks, his whole perception of the boy had changed drastically. He had been prepared to hate the boy, to see nothing but a clone of James Potter, to see a little Gryffindor brat. But now he couldn't even imagine doing that. He had grown to care for the boy, Merlin help him, and he knew if Harry refused his offer, refused to have anything to do with Severus, his heart would break.

"I...I don't know," he answered.

Amelia seemed to see what was going through Severus' head. "Severus, just be prepared for anything. I don't want to see you hurt. If the Ministry catches wind of what is happening, no doubt there will be problems. I'll do anything in my power to make sure nothing bad happens. I just need to make sure you can you can keep your end free of problems, and first, we need to talk with Harry. Otherwise, I can't do anything. I can get the papers ready, just in case, but that's all I can do for now, until you and Harry are both sure you wish to go with this."

Severus sat up straighter. "Okay. I'll talk to him tomorrow."

The following day, Severus was nervous, and it certainly showed. Harry didn't say anything, but Severus was sure Harry knew something was up. During breakfast, Severus opted to stare at his french toast instead of eating. His stomach was in knots, and he knew if he ate anything, it would be coming back up later.

The prospect of Harry rejecting him ate at him. He could clearly imagine the boy laughing at his face with the phrase "Why would anybody want you?" dancing off his tongue. Everytime he saw Harry, he had to look away. On more than one occasion, he opened his mouth to say the words, but nothing came out. He didn't understand. He was a spy, an ex-Death Eater, a soldier. He had faced plenty of hardships before, so why did the prospect of Harry never being in his life hurt so much? Before his mother mentioned it, he hadn't a care in the world what would have happened during the summer, but now he was willing to do front flips to get him to stay with him. He was getting soft, and honestly, he didn't know what to think about it.

He also knew, that with Harry becoming his ward, that he had to let Harry in on a few secrets in his life that he would rather keep hidden. He couldn't keep the boy in the dark about his past forever. Eventually, especially when they went to Hogwarts, it would come up. He didn't know how the boy would react, but he knew it would seal his fate one way or the other.

Harry seemed to have enough of mopey Severus when it came lunch time. Harry kept staring at him over his sandwich, prompting him to say something with those big green eyes. Severus swallowed, not only the bite of food, but the large baseball sized lump that was clogging his throat. He met Harry's eyes, and could clearly see the message running through the boy's mind:

Say something, damn it. I know you want to, so why don't you just spit it out already?

Although usually he would rebuke the boy on his choice of words, right then he could understand the boy's frustration. He was giving off questions, but not the answers the kid so clearly wanted. His eyes were narrowed, the green sparkling with confusion, and his wings twitched, a motion he seemed to have gotten from Lily.

After another bite, Harry put down his sandwich and just stared, tired of discretely giving hints. An eyebrow raised, and Severus sighed, putting down his sandwich as well. It was now or never, he supposed. The constant what if's were dancing in his head, and he tried his hardest to push them aside.

"Harry..." he began. How would one start this? "I have recently come to a conclusion, one that concerns the both of us..."

He could see the boy's, whose eyes were once filled with curiosity, suddenly fill with the slightest bit of fear.

"Are you going to send me away?" Harry blurted out. Severus blinked.

"Merlin no, child! No, I would never do that," he said, although at one point he knew he would have without a moment's thought.

"It's something good, or at least, I hope it will be, if you would let it..." Good Merlin, Severus, just spit it out already!

Harry's eyes perked, no longer scared. "Yeah?" he prompted.

Good God, this seemed to be harder than he thought. "If you will let me, or rather, if you will want me, would you be okay with me ado--well, what I mean to say..." Dammit!

"Do you want to be a family? Will you let me adopt you?" he finally rushed out.

It was quiet for a long time. Harry just stared at him, not moving, not blinking, completely immobile. It looked like Severus broke him. Just when Severus began to have doubts and regret his words, a wide smile slowly spread across Harry's face. His eyes brightened, to where they were rivaling Dumbledore's in brilliancy.

"Yes!" Harry said, hopping up out of his seat. "A thousand times yes!" He hugged Severus, knocking the wind out of him. His wings wrapped around him, and Severus returned the gesture.

Harry pulled back after a moment. "You want me?" he asked, his breath coming in a bewildered whisper.

Severus nodded. "Only if you want me," he replied, guilt rushing through his entire body.

"Of course I would want you! Why wouldn't I? You're one of the nicest people ever!" Severus tried not to flinch at the words. Oh, if Harry only knew the truth, he wouldn't be so eager to accept Severus' question...

"Harry," he said solemnly. The boy looked at him, his smile still etched on, but an air of confusion surrounded him. "Before we get on with this process, I need to tell you something. This something may change your mind, and if it does, I wouldn't blame you. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you want nothing to do with me afterwards, but I need to tell you this. I can't have you kept in the dark any more."

Harry looked seriously confused now, and his smile had started to droop. "What?" he asked, his voice small.

Severus licked his dry lips. His heart fluttered a mile a minute, and he was sure Harry could hear it beating. "Why don't you follow me to the living room? The dining table is no place to have this conversation."

Harry let go of him, and Severus stood, although it felt like his knees were going to give away. It felt harder than when he had to tell Rose and Joe that he was a Death Eater. Back then, he hadn't looked them in the eyes. He knew he was wrong, and the disappointment that was sure to follow nearly made him want to cry. He had been surprised when both Joe and Rose had simply engulfed him in a hug. Instead of being angry, like he thought they would, they had understood he had made a mistake. Hopefully Harry understood like his grandparents had.

The couch felt like cement as he sat down. His arm felt like it was burning, and the mark weighed heavily, like a hundred pounds. He unwrapped the gauze from his arm, and even though it was faded, the skull and snake was clearly visible on his pale skin. He heard Harry draw in a breath at the image, and he reached out to touch it, but Severus' arm flinched back on its own accord. His eyes found a patch of carpet in the corner and stayed there, refusing to look Harry in the eyes like the coward he was. He didn't want to see Harry's look of anger. He didn't want to see the betrayal that would no doubt be written across his young face. He knew it would just tear him up inside. He tried to draw in a deep breath, but the wind got caught in his throat. Before he could even think of what to say, his mouth opened, and he was spilling his story.

.'.

Harry listened as Severus whispered his tale. His eyes widened and narrowed at different spots, and at some points he felt like he had been sucker punched in the stomach by Dudley over and over again.

His first reaction to Severus' story was anger. Pure, unadulterated, anger. The man he had knew was stripped away and replace by a monster. How could anyone join Voldemort, and expect to receive forgiveness? His earlier comment was ripped to pieces and thrown away in the wind. Harry felt betrayed. He had been living with this man for weeks! Had all of it been a facade?

His anger dribbled away however, when he saw the look on the older man's face. He refused to look at Harry, but Harry could clearly see the torment and regret that filled the features he could see. His shoulders shook and his wings drooped, and it looked like the man didn't have the will to raise them up. He hiccuped his words out, and had to put his fist to his mouth from preventing sobs from escaping when he told of the death of Harry's parents. It was a completely different image of the man he knew, but then again, he didn't really know the man if the conversation said anything.

He could tell that Severus was still harboring guilt of his younger days. He was gripping his arm with the strange tattoo, which he now knew was the Dark Mark that every follower received. He was scratching at it, as if trying to tear it away, but he didn't seem to realize that he was doing it. Dark red streaks followed Severus' nails. Harry could see other scars on the arm, no doubt from previous years when Severus had tried everything to get rid of it. He could see a clump of scarred tissue that had never fully healed from when he tried to cut it off soon after getting the mark.

Before Severus could do any more damage to his arm, Harry gripped his hand, stopping him. Watery eyes met his, and Harry was struck with how much younger he looked. He recalled that Severus said that he was going to be only thirty-one on his next birthday, and a wave of sadness hit him.

This man had so much ahead of him, and it was thrown away from a mistake he made when he was a depressed youth. All the anger Harry had felt at the beginning of the story vanished completely. He could understand why he had done it. He had been outcasted, and the sister he loved no longer wanted him as a brother because he had said the wrong thing at the wrong time. He had been depressed, and as such tried to find acceptance somewhere else, only later realizing his mistake and tried to fix it by becoming a spy. Harry could get that. He had wanted acceptance and love from someone so long, and that someone came in the form of Severus. If Severus hadn't have come when he did, he would have been sent back to the Dursleys, where he would have been beaten, starved, and made to work all hours of the day. He never would have learned to fly, or met his grandparents, or met Neville. He wouldn't of had Spin, or got the chance to have Hades, if only for a short while. It was because of Severus that Harry had a happier life. Now it was Harry's turn to make Severus' life happy.

"Severus, it's okay," Harry whispered, putting as much emotion and love into his voice that he could. Severus didn't say anything, but his eyes had a look of confusion in them. Harry's grip on the other man's tightened. Severus reluctantly squeezed back.

"How can you say that?" Severus croaked, his voice disbelieving. Harry had the feeling Severus had this conversation before. Even now it seemed he was still surprised that someone wanted him, even after all the things he had done.

"I can understand why you did it. You made a mistake, and you paid for it. But now you're different. You a good man now, and you do a lot of good things. You teach, you spy. You help people, and you help me. I don't think a horrible person would do those things," Harry replied.

Severus' lips twitched, like he wanted to speak but the words wouldn't come. His eyes still held the bewildered look.

"I'm not going to let you talk your way out of this, Severus," Harry said with a small smile. "You're the one who proposed the option. You may have had a bad past, but that shouldn't stop you from continuing your future. I want to be a family just as much as you do. I'm not changing my mind, no matter what you say."

Something shone in Severus' eyes. "You sounded just like your mother right then," he said.

Harry gave a wider smile, feeling warmth spread through him. Severus stood up stretched his wings. They no longer drooped behind him like before. It seemed like the funk he had put himself in had completely disappeared at Harry's words. He still seemed a bit skittish, like he expected Harry to take back his words at a moment's notice, but otherwise looked very happy.

"If that is the way you really feel Harry," he spoke, his voice still soft, "then I need to contact Miss Bones."

"Ms. Bones?" Harry asked.

"She's a worker for the Ministry and a freind from school. She has agreed to help me adopt you and keep it on the down-low so the Ministry won't try and get in the way because of my past," Severus replied.

"Really? That's great!" Harry felt thankful for the woman. There she was, risking her job just so Harry and Severus could be a family. Nobody had ever done something like that for him before.

Severus walked over to the fireplace, his footfalls sounding a lot more energetic than they did before they came to the living room. He grabbed a small metal tin that was laying on top that Harry knew was where he contained his Floo powder. He threw the powder in, saying words too fast for Harry to hear, then poked his head in.

Harry gave out a small shout of alarm as he watched his soon-to-be father's head disappear in the flames. He knew the green fire didn't hurt, so he had no worried about is head being burned, but he had no idea how his head was supposed to go somewhere without his body. What if they got separated? That would be the weirdest way to get decapitated in the history of ever.

Harry saw Severus' wing fluff up for a second then fall, which caused a rush of anxiety to fill him. His worry subsided, however, when Severus seemed to be in no imminent danger and his chest continued to rise and fall. He even gave a Harry a thumbs up to reassure him, which looked rather odd from his perspective.

If Severus reached Miss Bones, Harry couldn't tell. Severus' arms twitched every once and awhile, like he wanted to talk with his hands. The conversation seemed to get serious at one point, or at least she had said something that had evoked a reaction from him. His arms and back tensed up, and his wings twitched, almost in anger like they did sometimes.

Harry knew staying in a position like that for too long would no doubt hurt, but Harry didn't want to bother him just in case whatever anger he might have from the conversation didn't get thrown onto him. Instead, he sat back on the couch and waited.

.'.

Severus poked his head through the fire, closing his eyes against the multiple spinning rooms so he wouldn't get vertigo. Concentrating hard, he gave Harry a thumbs up in the living room. He knew the boy had never seen Floo travel like what he was seeing now, and there was no doubt the boy would get worried he would get hurt.

Amelia Bones' office looked different than the last time Severus remembered. It was way more cluttered now. Paper airplane messages floated in every direction, swooping and twirling over the desks. Bright orange feathers in clumps laid everywhere. Papers piled high, and Severus had to peer in every direction before he could spot a ragged looking Bones behind a pile of papers.

"Amelia!" he said, and the woman jumped. She poked her head around her desk. Her hair was wild, tied in a very hastily done looking bun. Her wand stuck out of it, acting as a holder.

"Severus!" She bounded towards him, an eager look on her face. "How did it go?"

Severus smiled one of his rare smiles. "He said yes!"

Amelia squealed and clapped her hands. "That's great! That's amazing! Oh, I would give you a hug if I could." She leaned back on her heel and sighed happily.

"So you think you could still do the adoption process?" he asked.

A grin spread, and her eyes gleamed. "Well, yes and no. I could, but I probably won't."

Severus' own smile fell and he could feel his body tense up and his wings twitch back at his home. Was she ditching him? "No? You're smiling. That's not something to smile about!'

"Well..." she said in a singsong voice. "I found something that can override the Ministry, no matter what they say. We don't even have to do the papers!"

"Amelia, you are making no sense. There is nothing in existence that could-"

"-There is. Just wait Severus. I don't have all of the information on it yet, but it should only take a few more hours. I want to explain it to both you and Harry."

"Dammit, Bones! Just tell me!" he said angrily.

She reached into the flames and began pushing his head back. "Nope, nope! Just wait, okay? I'm almost done researching." She motioned to her messy office behind her. "It shouldn't take long. You have been patient with me so far, so trust me. It will be great."

With one final shove, Severus was back in his living room, blinking and coughing from the soot that rushed up his throat.

"How did it go?" he could hear Harry ask.

"She'll be here in a few hours, apparently," Severus replied snappily. He could see Harry flinch out of the corner of his eye. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm not mad at you, Harry," he said, his voice much softer. "She just wouldn't give me full details on if she can still do the adoption process or not. It was irritating. I'm sorry I snapped."

Harry fiddled with his hands. "S'fine, sir."

"Do you want to fly until she gets here? You haven't practiced in a few days," he suggested. He would do anything to distract him for a few hours and ease his mind.

Harry perked up instantly. "That sounds great!"

He rushed to the door, sliding it open with one tug. Harry's wings spread wide, and he leaped into the air. Severus followed not far behind, and soon they were continuing the game of chase that they had left off with Neville the day before.

They played for a few hours, and Severus was winning by multiple points. Harry, despite having the speed of his father and mother combined, still couldn't keep up with Severus' more skilled flying. He whined after Severus tagged him out for the thirtieth time.

"Come on, Severus! Make it a bit easier!" he said.

"You'll never learn if everyone takes it easy on you," he replied, and tagged Harry out once more.

Night began to settle, and Harry and Severus went back to the house, each taking a shower to wash of the sweat and dirt that had accumulated during their play. While Harry took his, Severus began to get dinner ready.

He was still seething slightly as he stirred the tomato sauce. Bones--he refused to call her Amelia as long as she was taking her sweet time--had yet to show up, and as every hour passed while they were out, he feared that she had given up on him and refused to show. He wanted Harry to be a part of his family more than anything, and the thought that he may not because some woman decided she had something better to do not only angered him to no end, but also made him feel a dark...something in the pit of his stomach. It was as if an Dementor had come and sucked away his happiness.

He knew he was being dramatic, but with every minute that ticked away, his mind ran wild. Each scenario that passed through his head seemed to be worse than the last. If Amelia didn't show, he would have to be forced to take it front of the Minster, and he knew for certain how Fudge thought of him. There was no doubt that he would have the time of his life rejecting Severus' application. And then the whole wizarding world would know that Harry needed a new family and there would be a bidding war over him. No doubt someone like the Malfoys would take him away in an instant. The thought of losing Harry forever was enough to drive him mad, and it was the last thing he wanted.

The sound of wet feet slapping on tile made him turn his head. Harry walked into the kitchen, already dressed in pajama bottoms and one of Severus' old shirts.

"Your turn," was all Harry said as he took the spoon from Severus' hand.

"Already?" he asked, glancing at the clock. "You were barely in there for thirty minutes."

Harry shrugged. "I take quick showers."

Severus huffed. "I should make you go back in there and take another one," he muttered.

Harry either didn't hear him or opted to ignore it. "What's for dinner?" he asked.

"I don't know. Something with tomato sauce," he replied, heading towards the stairs.

"I'll figure something out," Harry said, shouting slightly so Severus could hear.

Severus took a shower, making the water as hot as he could stand it. He scrubbed at his scalp furiously, watching as streams of brown and dirt went down the drain. Leaves from the trees fell from his wings, and he took slight pleasure in ripping them in two and throwing them out the curtain.

The steam coated the mirror when he stepped out, and he didn't even bother to wipe it away. He hacked at his hair with the brush blindly and smoothed out his wings half-heartedly. By the time he had finished completely, Harry had already finished dinner and was placing their plates at their respective seats.

"Spaghetti again?" he asked as he sat down. He took a fork and swirled it in the pasta.

"I like it," Harry said, twirling his own forkful.

The fire flared green, and Severus barely spared Bones a glance as she stepped through.

"Severus, I found it! You're going to love it!" she said, waving a piece of parchment in the air.

"Oh, so you haven't forgotten me? It took you long enough," he commented icily.

Amelia stopped in her tracks with a look of confusion. "What are you...? Nevermind. What I found is amazing. It took me a while to find the recipe-"

"-Obviously-"

"-but I think it was worth it. Check this out." She shoved the parchment in his face.

Severus blinked as he tried to adjust his eyes to the small, cramped handwriting.

"Pater et Filius?" he read out loud. He raised his eyes to the giddy woman standing in front of him. "What is it?"

"It's a potion!" she said. Her smile hurt Severus' own cheeks just looking at her.

"I could never tell," he drawled, his sarcastic tone indicating that he was talking to either a dunderhead or a small child. "but what does it do?"

"You need to be a bit more nicer to the one who's helping you get this process started," she reprimanded lightly, wagging her finger at his nose. He rolled his eyes and she gave a crooked grin, catching his sarcasm.

"Do you mind if I sat down?" she asked, indicating to the empty seat beside Harry.

Severus made a ‘go-for-it' motion with the hand that was not currently swirling pasta. She plopped down and smoothed the parchment between the three of them.

"This was very difficult to find," she began. "The ministry had erased nearly every mention of it from their resources. I was lucky to have found a book that mentioned it in one of my old storage boxes. It took me a bit to search for the recipe, but once I uncovered the name, I went to the Forbidden Library--not a small feat I may add--and spent the whole night looking for more information. I just happened to come across a book that mentioned a recipe when you called, Severus."

"Lucky me," he said, and even he couldn't tell if he was sarcastic or not.

"This potion is very powerful. Not even the Ministry's laws can override it," she said happily.

"Neat," breathed Harry, looking wide-eyed at the parchment.

"If brewed correctly, Pater et Filius can make the drinkers become one. It literally translates to "Father and Son", so that tells you a lot there. Severus, when you drink it, Harry will become biologically yours. He will take on some of your mannerisms, looks, and talents. It's an even stronger process than adoption. Since he will then become your son in every way, the Ministry will have no hold over the both of you, and will have no way to override your process." she beamed brightly, but then added as an afterthought: "As long as you don't get caught brewing this, of course. "

Harry looked excited, but Severus caught a hint of hesitation in his eyes when Amelia explained.

"Harry? What's wrong?" he asked. "If you don't want to go through with this, that's fine. We can just-"

"-Of course I want to go through with this, Severus!" he interrupted. "It's just, if I take on his mannerisms and stuff, what will happen to my mum and dad's parts of me? Will they just disappear and I'll become a carbon copy of Severus?" he asked, and Severus caught the slight glance at his large nose.

Amelia must have seen it as well because she smirked slightly. "No Harry. That's one part the potion can't take away. Think of it as having three biological parents. You will still have Lily and James in you, but now you will have a mix of Severus in there in well."

"You make it sound like you're making some weird soup," he commented and Amelia laughed.

"I suppose it is kind of like making weird soup," she chuckled.

"I have a question, Amelia," Severus asked, snatching the parchment towards him and squinting his eyes at the small handwriting. "Why on earth couldn't you have just taken the book? Nobody ever goes in the Forbidden Library, so they shouldn't notice it was missing, would they?"

"Unspeakables, Severus. They're everywhere. They see everything. I couldn't risk it. I jotted the notes down as fast as I could before anyone noticed anything was going on. Sorry for the handwriting. It must be atrocious. I can re-write it for you if you wish."

Severus shook his head. "No, it's fine. I have to read student scribble every day. I'm sure I can manage. It was a stupid question anyway. But tell me one more thing, please." He turned the parchment every which way, squinting even harder at the smaller script. "How long does this potion take to brew?"

"It should be on there, but I believe it takes three to four months."

Harry dropped his fork of spaghetti. "Three to four months!" he shouted, shocked.

"That's what she just said, Harry. There's no need for repetition," Severus said lightly.

"Yes, no need for repetition," Amelia said, and Severus peered at her over the brown paper, unamused.

"I just want to know how I missed this potion," he muttered to himself. "I've studied every potion, forbidden and legal and I have never even heard a mention of this."

"The ministry kept this one on lockdown. No mention of it since the thirteenth century," Amelia said, hearing him.

"Why was it forbidden?" Harry asked, saying the thing that was on Severus' mind.

"Oh, it's for a stupid reason. It's not forbidden because it's dangerous or anything, don't worry. The Minister at the time--the first ever woman minister, mind you--banned it because her husband ran off with another woman and gave the potion to their newborn son with the DNA of the other woman without her knowing, and by the time she found out there was nothing she could do about it. The Ministry couldn't do anything because it was perfectly legal. She was angry that she had to share her son with the other, so she banned the potion and practically erased it from everyone's mind so nobody else could ever go through what she did. But instead of helping others like she wanted to, she hindered them by not letting them use that form of adoption. She never relented though, even when people were practically barging down her door, and it's been in the Forbidden Library ever since."

Severus' eyebrows were raised high. "You got all of this in just a day?"

Amelia shrugged. "I started my research last night. I pulled an all nighter, and most of today."

"You always were a fast researcher," he commented. "Is this everything you could gather?"

She nodded. "I got what I thought to be the most important. If you need anything else, let me know. I can certainly try again." She pushed back her chair, her orange feathers spanning behind her, and Harry stood up with her.

"Hold on before you leave, Ms. Bones," he instructed, then went into the kitchen and made another plate of spaghetti. He covered the top with tin foil and handed the large plate to her.

"Here, take this with you. You said you've been working all day and I thought you might be hungry, " he said.

Amelia smiled wide, holding the plate close. "Thank you, Harry. That's very nice of you."

Red began to rise up his neck and ears and looked down at his feet. "You're welcome."

Severus stood up and walked Amelia back to the fireplace.

"Thank you so much for the meal," she said. "I'm sorry for interrupting your dinner."

Severus waved away her apologies. "It's no problem. There's no need to apologize. Thank you so much for this. Truly. If there is anything I can do in return-"

It was Amelia's turn to wave away his words. "It's fine, Severus. Anything to help a friend."

Severus coughed, embarrassed. "Yes, well...thank you. Again. And um..." he faltered, the words not coming as easily as they should. "I'm uh, sorry, for my attitude earlier. It wasn't polite and quite rude."

Amelia laughed. "Oh, it's fine, Sev. I know you didn't mean it. Your imagination always got the better of you. This time was no different, was it?" She slapped his shoulder lightly.

"Yeah...," he muttered.

"Well, I must be off now. I can't be gone too long or else people may begin to wonder. I wish you luck on your process," she said. With the plate tucked tightly in her arms, she threw the powder into the fire and in a flash of green was gone.

Severus stood in the same spot, rooted in place until Harry called his name to finish dinner.

"So when can we start? Can we start now?" Harry asked, practically bouncing up and down in his chair.

"Let's finish dinner, and maybe I'll think about it..." he said, his voice trailing off at the end. He peered at Harry, smirking slightly at the shocked face.

"I'm only joking. Yes! Let's get this process started right away!" He clapped his hands together, and Harry gave out a loud whoop.

~.~

With the potion finally beginning its journey, softly bubbling under a fire, Severus yawned and stepped out of his lab. Harry had helped for the first few hours, but ultimately had become too tired to continue. He had whined and complained as Severus shooed him out of the lab, but finally gave up when his face hit the pillow, and he began snoring instantly.

Severus had covered him up, tucking him in and wiping away his bangs from his forehead. With a final "Goodnight, Harry," he had stepped out of the room and headed back to his lab to continue the potion.

The beginning process was nothing much. All he had to do was skin and chop some few ingredients, and that was what had taken the most time. He would have to add them tomorrow after the base had boiled for twenty-four hours. Then it would really begin, and they could get the adoption process started for real.

He didn't bother brushing his teeth as he entered his bedroom. Instead, he headed straight for bed. He flopped down face first, utterly exhausted. His wings fell on either side of him, spread wide, and he didn't even bother to bring them back up.

His thoughts were still on the constant cycling loop that had been running around ever since he started the potion, ranging from happiness that he hadn't felt in a long time to fear. He feared that he may one day become just like his father. Hurting Harry was the last thing on his mind, something that he could never picture himself doing, even on accident, but the constant what if's were constantly there. Everyone knew Severus had a temper that could hardly be tamed when it became unleashed, and he never wanted to give into his rage like his father had and possibly hurt Harry. He would never forgive himself if he did that.

What if he started drinking again and he got too drunk to function? What if Harry annoyed him, and he took his hand to the child in a bad way? What if something bad happened to Severus, and he took his anger out on Harry like his father had to him so many times when things had gone wrong? He didn't want to turn into Tobias.

What if...what if...what if...

Finally, after around two hours of the constant worrying and the psyching himself not to worry, he fell asleep just as tiny beams of light found its way over the hills.

Now, it should be said that Severus should never, on any circumstance, think about his father before falling asleep if he didn't want to have screwed up dreams that would take weeks to recover from. Ever.

But, as with most things that he did in life, he didn't listen to his inner musings, and after what had seemed like only seconds of closing his eyes, his father was there, standing tall and cruel over his bed, and he was sure that he had never felt more scared in his life than he did in that moment in his dream induced state. He hadn't seen his father in so long, and the mere sight of him made him tremble and shake like he was a child again.

"What the hell are you doing, boy?" his father snarled, giving off a sneer that Severus could only dream of mustering.

"Didn't ya listen to those lessons I gave ya a while back?" His voice, which had a slight English accent from the many years of living in Cokeworth, reverted back to his Texas drawl in his anger.

A hand shot out and took him by the hair, dragging him up from his bed. He grasped at his father's wrists, trying his hardest to push him away. Tobias then pushed him back down, holding him down on the bed by his wings.

"You're nothing, do ya hear me?" he growled. Severus struggled underneath him, panting from the pain in his wings.

"I know it. You know. The kid knows it. It's only a matter of time, Severus." He gripped feathers, clutching a fistful, and Severus screamed.

"It's only a matter of time until he leaves. Just like how Lily did. She didn't even want you as her brother. He only went with this stupid process because he felt sorry." He ripped the feathers from his wings, and Severus could feel hot tears spring to his eyes as his throat began to turn raw.

"He felt sorry for your stupid. Pathetic. Life." Rip. Rip. Rip. He took chunks of feathers with every word. He tried to fight back, to get Tobias away, but it was like he was frozen. He laid there, boneless, as his father ripped away every last feather, laughing maniacally.

Tobias' face morphed into Harry's, and still he continued to laugh. As he ripped away the last feather, he sneered, contorting his normally cheerful facial features into something Severus deeply wished he would never see again.

He leaned down to Severus' ear, his green eyes glinting. "Nothing," he whispered, and Severus' throat seized up. Hands closed tightly around his windpipe, and he couldn't breathe...

Severus jerked awake, feeling like he was falling. He brought his wings up, nearly crying with joy when he saw that they were still normal, not a feather missing. He wiped away the cold sweat that had formed on his skin. He felt like the Hogwarts Express had run him over.

The sun was completely up now, shining brightly through his window, a complete contrast to what he was feeling. He could hear Harry, already up, banging pots and pans around as he made breakfast.

Oh, Merlin. He flopped back down, one arm covering his eyes from the light.

What on earth was he doing to himself?

Severus sipped at his third coffee, still slightly rattled from the nightmare a few days ago. It had taken up the forefront of his mind, making him more scatterbrained than normal. His hands shook, and his memory seemed to falter every once and awhile. He had taken to drinking Dreamless Sleep before bed every night since then, at least until he completely got over the dream and it stopped haunting him during his everyday activities. He always hated nightmares because it always took him way longer than most to get over them, especially the ones with Tobias involved.

Harry, now distracted by the new boiling potion in the basement, didn't seem to notice anything wrong with Severus. Which was great, in Severus' opinion. He refused to let Harry see him in such a state over a nightmare.

Harry had written to his friends back and forth repeatedly for the last few days, telling them in the fewest details possible that something amazing was happening. Spin had hissed with joy at Harry's story, and even Hedwig seemed to be in a better mood since the potion began.

He had fire-called Dumbledore, swearing him to secrecy as he told the Headmaster his plan with Pater et Filius. Albus had been overjoyed of course, and had promised to act as a witness if there was a need for one.

With the first of September coming in just a few days time, Minerva had come over, making sure his lesson plans were up to snuff and that he was prepared for a new year. He knew that wasn't the real reason for her visit, but had let her see his notes anyway. Just as he had suspected, as soon as she peered at the parchment, her real reason for coming had reared it's head as Harry walked down the stairs and the two had instantly went flying in the backyard.

Over their dinner of Chinese take-out, Harry had excitedly told her about the potion and the whole adoption process with permission from Severus. Her chopsticks had clattered into the styrofoam tray, and for a moment she didn't say anything. Then she smiled wide and took them both into a huge hug, nearly crushing their wings and backs, and congratulated them over and over. She had left happier than he had ever seen her, which confused him because the news wasn't even about her, and soon after she had left he had retreated back to his potions lab.

He placed his cup in the sink, yawning wide. He padded over to the living room, towards the bookcase. He pulled the appropriate book down, and the whole thing slid open. He flicked a switch and a light bulb flickered on, lighting the small hallway.

The potion had been bubbling on low heat for well over thirty six hours now. Yesterday, he had added the ingredients, and now it was to boil for three weeks. Then the next step would come into play.

He turned the knob to his lab, surprised to find it was unlocked. Wary, he pushed it open, wand in hand. He stopped short, one step in.

The potion was still in the same place, still bubbling peacefully. Harry sat in front of it, chair turned backwards and feet dangling off the edge. His wings, finally beginning to grow larger since his molting, brushed the tile floor. He was staring intently at the potion, as if he could speed up the process by sheer will.

"Harry?" he said, and the boy jumped, not hearing him come in. "What are you doing here?"

The eleven year old turned around in is chair, looking rather tired. "I'm bored," was his simple reply.

"So you decided to stare at a potion?" The question rang around the room and the boy shrugged. "It's barely eleven. Surely there is something you can do besides just sit?"

"I've already done everything," he whined.

An eyebrow raised. "Have you thought about possibly writing to Neville?"

"Already have. Waiting on a reply."

"Hermione?"

"Again, waiting on a reply."

"What about reading a book?"

"I've already finished all of my books. And your books are boring."

Severus pretended not to take offense at that. "How about playing with Spin?"

"He's asleep."

Severus sighed. "Well, there's no use in sitting around like a bump on a log. Why don't you clean your room or something. The potion needs to be left alone so it can brew properly."

Harry yawned. "My room's clean."

"Well then, how about doing the laundry? I'm sure there's some underwear hidden in the corner of your room that is in a desperate need of washing."

"You did that yesterday."

Damn. He was right. Frustrated, he leaned against his desk. "Why don't you....I don't know. Didn't your friend mention something about wanting a sleepover?" he asked absentmindedly, searching for something the boy could be doing. "Send her a letter and see if they still want to have one."

Harry's eyes widened, and it seemed whatever tiredness that had been lining his eyes disappeared completely. "Really?"

Severus nodded. "Yes, really. It's only three days until school starts. Might as well have some fun before you have to leave."

Harry jumped up from the chair, nearly sending it toppling over. If it wasn't for Severus' quick hand, it would have knocked against the cauldron. "Oh, this is going to be so awesome!" he said, pumping his fists in the air.

"Yes, well, before any "awesomeness" can ensue, the living room is going to have to be cleaned and prepared for whatever antics you children will be up to." Potter's enthusiasm deflated, and he gave Severus a slightly disappointed look with a small "Aww."

"Don't ‘aww' me," he chastised lightly. "Hurry up and write out the letters for when Hedwig comes back, and I'll help you tidy up the living room when you get finished," he promised.

"Okay." Harry ducked as Severus went to ruffle his hair, and slinked out the door.

The potion was okay. It was starting to turn a deep green as it should, and in a few weeks no doubt it would begin to change into a more blue color. He gave it a stir, then followed Harry's footsteps back into the living room.

With a wave of his wand, the couches began to move away from the middle of the room and closer to the surrounding walls. The chairs went tightly into the corners, and all that remained on the carpet were some odd little items and socks that had been forgotten underneath the couches. He would leave those for Harry to claim.

Up the stairs he went, and a knock on the door had Harry peeking his face through the opening, a wide smile etched on and a handful of newly written letters clutched tightly.

"I see you're finished with the letters already," he noted, marvelling at the boy's speed. "There are some items of yours that were underneath the couches. Go pick them up and I'll get started on lunch."

"‘Kay." Harry bounded down the stairs with energy that only a child could seem to muster, leaving Severus standing at the open door.

He let out a shaky breath of air and closed his eyes. The sight of Harry smiling never failed to remind him of his horrid nightmare. He knew it would never happen of course, but the thought of Harry becoming what he had seen in his dream never failed to make him uneasy.

He closed the door behind him and slowly walked down the stairs. Harry was picking up the items, looking at each one closely before pocketing them.

"Lunch is going to be simple sandwiches," he said. "Is that alright?"

"That's fine," Harry said distractedly as he plucked an old golden feather from the pile of dust bunnies.

Severus munched on ham as he made Harry's sandwiches. Harry came up behind him and plucked an extra piece from his hand, shoving it in his mouth before Severus could intervene.

"Wash you hands before touching the food!" he said, batting away Harry's hand. "It's covered in dust!"

Harry skirted away from Severus, laughing slightly as he went back into the living room. He could smell the scent of pine needles wafting from the room and he wrinkled his nose.

A brown owl tapped on the kitchen window, startling Severus. Harry raced back into the kitchen eagerly.

"It's Neville's owl!" Quickly, he ushered the owl in. Severus fed him ham, and he snapped it away from his fingers. Severus jerked his fingers back, looking for any damage that might have been done. He glared at the bird, whose deep set eyes glared right back.

Harry took the parchment away from the owl's leg, nearly ripping the parchment in his excitement as he opened it.

"What does it say?" he asked.

"Nothing much. He was just telling me about one of his uncles. But now I can ask him if he can come over for the night!" Harry said giddily. He quickly took out his own letter from his back pocket and tied it to the owl's leg. "Take this to Neville for me, will you?"

The owl hooted, looking pleased with himself. He gave Severus a sidelong glance and hopped out the window. Feathers brushed against the window as he took flight. With disgust, Severus noted that the owl had left a little present as he left, and was now running down the window sill. A wave if his wand fixed the problem, but Severus couldn't help but note how close it had come to the sandwiches. Just in case, he threw them away.

"I was gonna eat that!" Harry whined.

"You can make another," he replied, looking in the fridge for more ingredients.

"But there's no more ham left! You ate it all!"

"Then use turkey." He tossed the package of meat to Harry, who juggled the meat while trying to catch it. "It's healthier anyway."

"Since when have you care about healthy foods?" he heard Harry mumble. Severus rolled his eyes at the cheese as he grabbed the container.

Lunch was ate in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Harry munched happily at the lettuce, looking out the sliding glass door. Severus nibbled on a bit of the crust while reading the day's issue of the Daily Prophet. Some ministry official had shown his wings to a muggle and was now facing some very high fine that Severus could only dream of earning. He scoffed, placing the paper to the side.

"What time do you want your sleepover to start?" Severus asked.

"I was hoping maybe three," Harry replied, peeling a pickle from his sandwich and popping it into his mouth.

Severus made a noise in the back of his throat. "How about later?" he suggested. Harry's shoulders slumped a little, and before he could open his mouth and argue, Severus continued.

"I still need to meet her parents. I was thinking, once Hedwig delivers her letter, you can edit your letter a bit to see if her parents wouldn't mind joining us for dinner. Here, their house or at a restaurant, whichever they would prefer. Or, why don't you just ask for their phone number and I'll ask for you," he added on when he saw the hesitation on Harry's face.

"Okay, I guess that'll work," Harry said. He picked up his finished plate and brought it to the sink. "Do you want to fly?" he asked Severus.

"Are you finished with the living room?" He peered at Harry over the rim of his mug.

Harry eagerly nodded his head. Severus glanced in the direction of the living room. With his spell that made the chairs and couches move, the living room looked larger than ever. The rug was spotless, and the table shined from a fresh polishing. He frowned slightly. He didn't mean for Harry to go that far with the cleaning.

"I guess," he said. Harry put up Severus' plate for him, too eager to wait on the older man.

The wind whipped through Severus' hair as he flew beside Harry. He flew high, higher, until he felt he could touch the clouds with his fingertips. Harry was directly behind him, enjoying the feeling of freedom that always came when they were in the air. His eyes were closed in pure bliss, a smile stretched widely across his young face.

Something white streaked past directly in front of Severus, prompting him to skid to a stop mid-air. He heard a hoot and turned to see Hedwig flapping in front of Harry, letter clutched tightly in her beak. He took it, scanned it quickly like he had with Neville's, and sped down to the patio to get his response, leaving Severus in the dust. Severus rolled his eyes and followed more slowly.

By the time Hedwig came back with her second letter, Harry had nearly climbed the walls, too impatient on waiting. Severus had berated him many times, but his words were lost on the child.

"Her parents said okay!" he shouted excitedly beside him on the couch, nearly blowing out Severus' eardrums.

"Here's her number," Harry said, reading from the letter. "It's-"

"I can take it from here, Harry," Severus said, holding out his hand for the letter.

"I can't wait!" Harry said, looking like a small child as he watched Severus with wide eyes as he dialed the number.

"Be patient," Severus instructed.

"Yes, is this Mrs. Granger?" he asked when a female voice answered the line. "Oh, Hermione? It's nice to finally hear you," he glanced in Harry's direction, making the child's face heat up. "Can you put your mother or father on the line, please? Thank you."

.'.

As Severus spoke with the Grangers, Harry bounced slightly on the springy couch cushions. Excitement bubbled inside his chest. It tunneled down his arms, tingled on his fingertips and toes, and filled him to the brim until he thought he was going to burst. His wings jittered quickly and his eyes shone. He knew he was acting like a child, but it was just too much! He had never had anything like this before. He had always wondered what it would be like to have his friends over for the night like how Dudley did sometimes. He often fantasized about it in his cupboard. Him, with his new friends that didn't run away from Dudley, playing in the front yard of Number Four Privet Drive. Now his dream was coming true!

"Okay, so you want us to meet you at where at four o'clock? Okay, thank you so much. Yes, I'll see you soon." He hung up, and Harry eagerly waited for him to talk.

"We're going to meet the Grangers at an Italian restaurant near their home. It's not far from here. We have about an hour until we're supposed to meet them, so go ahead and take a shower, brush your hair or do whatever it is that you need to do in order to get ready," Severus sad.

He had barely finished his sentence when Harry scrambled up the stairs, leaving feathers in his wake. Spin jerked his head up when Harry came roughly through the door. He hissed something unpleasant, giving the snake equivalent of a glare until Harry apologized and stroked his scales in a way that had Spin bumping his hand for more.

He grabbed a nice red dress shirt, the nicest pair of dark jeans he owned, a pair of underwear straight from the dryer, and one of his brand new pairs of shoes that he had yet to try on. The shower was warm and steamy when he stepped in, and his wings relaxed as he carefully ran his hand through the the soaked feathers. He shook them dry when he stepped out, and they fluffed up high, much like his hair. The dress shirt felt cool on his skin, and he marvelled in the feeling of the fabric as it ghosted over his chest.

He came down the stairs thirty minutes later to see Severus dressed in his own dress shirt. It was a dark purple, and it paired nicely with the dark gray pants. A watch was on his left wrist, covering the bandage that hid his Dark Mark.   

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, eyeing Harry's attire. Severus stepped forward and straightened his shirt collar, making it fit tight to Harry's throat. He moved Harry's glasses to where they sat perfectly straight on his nose, and Harry blinked as the world span for a second.

Harry quickly raced to the garage as sat in the passenger's side of Severus' car. He absolutely loved the car. He hadn't been in it since they had went shopping. It seemed like forever ago that it had happened.

Severus sat in the driver's side, and he flicked a switch that had the hood of the car closing overhead.

"Why are you closing it?" Harry said, a whine hidden in his voice.

"We are going to a nice place, and I don't want us looking like street rats when we get there," he replied and eased his way out of the parking space.

Although Harry's hair wasn't whipping about in the wind like it had before, he still enjoyed the ride. He watched as houses and trees and cars zoomed by in a blur of colors. He spotted his grandparent's house and waved at his grandmother in the front yard watering plants as they passed.

The restaurant was rather large. Harry eyed the large sign, watching as the bright neon colors blinked in and out, advertising their wonderful food. He spotted Hermione getting out of a car near them and quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and ran towards her.

"Hello, Hermione," Harry said, surprising her. She was dressed in a red dress, the color matching Harry's shirt perfectly. She looked a bit different to Harry, not a lot like how she had in Diagon Alley. Once again, it seemed like a lifetime ago that it had happened.

"Harry!" She smiled and enveloped him in a hug. Her bushy hair smelled of strawberries, and the smell wafted up his nose as Harry huggd her back.

A man and a woman came behind Hermione, and Harry let go in order to shake their hand. "Hello, Mrs. Granger. Hello, Mr. Granger," Harry said politely.

"Well, hello there young man," Mr. Granger said, surprising Harry with his deep booming voice. "It's finally nice to meet you. Hermione's told a lot about you."

Hermione's face turned a shade of red. "Dad!"

Hermione's father turned to Severus. "And you must be Mr. Snape. We talked on the phone." He clasped Severus' hand tightly in his own.

"Severus, please. And it's nice to meet you, Mr. Granger," Severus said almost awkwardly, giving a sound shake.

"Jarrold, please. Call me Jarrold. There's no need to be so formal!" Mr. Granger replied, clapping Severus on the shoulder. Harry could see him try and hide a wince.

"I'm Delilah," Mrs. Granger said, taking Severus' hand much more softly. She gave an apologetic smile for her husband.

"Is that your car?" Mr. Granger asked, pointing to the black Mercedes. When Severus nodded, the sandy-haired man's eyes lit up.  

"It's American, yes?" He peered inside the car, looking like a kid in a candy store as he examined its contents. It was obvious he wanted to talk about the vehicle more, but Mrs. Granger cleared her throat.

"Come on, dear. We need to go in before all of the booths are taken," she said, steering her husband away from the car by the arm.

The waitress greeted them, a large smile plastered on her face, no doubt forcefully. The restaurant was packed, very few tables were left and only one booth that Harry could see was not occupied.

"Would you like a booth or a table?" the lady asked.

"Do you want to just try a table?" Mrs. Granger asked. "There's plenty more than booths."

"That sounds like a good idea," Severus answered.

The waitress nodded and lead them to a table that could easily seat seven people. She left, giving them their menus, with the promise of her return shortly to take their order. As soon as she left, Mr. Granger began to ask Severus questions about his car. Mrs. Granger looked exasperated, holding her chin in her hand with a half-lidded look, like it happened all the time.

"You're dad really likes cars, huh?" Harry asked, drowning out the adult's conversation.

Hermione nodded, scanning her menu. "Yeah. He really wants to collect them and fix them up, but mum won't let him. She says a dentist has no need for a car collection."

When the waitress came back, Harry ordered simple spaghetti and a coke. Hermione ordered fettucine alfredo after carefully going over the prices.

When the food came, Harry dug in. He hated to say it, but the spaghetti tasted so much better than his or even McGonagall's. It was like biting into heaven.

Harry and Hermione chatted while the adults talked about possible times to come over.

"Would it be alright if she just comes back to our house with us after dinner?" Harry asked. Severus shot him a look from behind his napkin.

"I already have my things packed and in the car," Hermione butted in helpfully. Her parent's eyebrows raised.

"When did you pack?" her mother asked.

"When you were on the phone with Mr. Snape," she replied. Her mother rolled her eyes.

"Of course," Harry heard her mutter.

"Would that be okay with you, Severus?" Mr. Granger asked.

"I don't see why not," Severus replied. "It would be faster."

"May I ask, who else is going to be there?" Mrs. Granger questioned.

"Well, aside from me and Harry, just one more boy is going to come. They will be sleeping in the living room where I can keep a close eye on them," Severus said.

The Grangers seemed to talk with their eyes as they stared at each other. "I suppose it will be alright. But she will have to be home by one tomorrow."

Hermione and Harry smiled widely. "Thank you so much!" Harry said.

Their waitress came back, taking their cups and refilling them. "Tonight's dessert special is chocolate dipped cannoli. If you are feeling something different, we also have available Zeppole, Biscotti, and our fan favorite: Anisette Cookies. Do you wish to order now or do you want to think for a while?"

"I would like the cannoli," Hermione said quickly, glancing at her parents. "If that's okay."

"Severus, do you care for dessert?" Mrs. Granger asked.

Severus looked slightly surprised at being asked. "S-sure," he replied. Harry got the feeling the man wasn't very good in social situations.

"I'd like the cannoli too, please," Mr. Granger said.

"Make it five cannolis. One for each of us," Mrs. Granger said.

The waitress scribbled it all down. "All right, I'll be out with your order in just a moment."

It barely seemed like five minutes had passed before the sweet was right in front of Harry. Harry gobbled his down in a flash, Hermione not far behind. Severus and the Grangers ate theirs more slowly.

When the bill came, both Severus and Mr. Granger reached for it. It was perhaps the funniest thing Harry had ever seen. They were both staring at each other, hands still holding tightly to the check. It looked like two tigers fighting over prey. Nobody moved. Mr. Granger narrowed his eyes and tried to bring the check closer to him, but Severus wouldn't let him. He held on even tighter. Severus tried to bring the check closer to him. Mr. Granger did the same thing.

"I have it, Severus," Mr. Granger said.

"No. It's fine. I was the one who wanted to meet you. I should pay for it."

"Yes, but I was the one who suggested Aldini's. Let me."

Mr. Granger once again tried to bring the bill to him.

"Jarrold, I've got it," Severus said.

"Severus-"

"Oh for Christ's sake, give it here," Mrs. Granger said and snatched the bill away. She fished into her purse and put the required amount of money on the check. She gave it to their waiter, who's eyes were shining from holding back laughter. Their waiter cleared her throat quickly and rushed off. Harry could hear faint peals of laughter trail behind her.

"They just met and they already act like a married couple," Hermione whispered in Harry's ear. Harry snorted into his hand. Severus gave him a sideways glare, the faintest of blushes apparent on his cheeks.

When they left Aldini's, Hermione made a dash to her parent's car. She rummaged in the backseat and came back out with an overnight bag.

"Thank you for letting her stay," Severus said to Mrs. Granger.

Harry went on ahead and hopped into the front seat. Hermione pushed her luggage into the back and sat beside it.

"The steering wheel's on the other side!" she exclaimed, her bushy head poking between the two front seats.

"Yeah. It was imported from America," Harry said.

Severus slid into the driver's side. He rolled down the backseat window and Hermione's parents peered in.

"Have fun, sweetie," Mrs. Granger said. She leaned in through the window and gave a one-armed hug.

"Gosh, I already miss you, kiddo," Mr. Granger said. He looked like he was holding back tears.

"Dad! It's only going to be for one night!" Hermione said, leaning out the window to give him a hug as well.

They stood in the parking lot, waving, as Severus pulled out. Hermione watched out the window until her parents were nothing but pinpricks.

"Your dad is pretty protective, huh?" Harry commented.

Hermione turned back around. "Yeah. I've never gone to a sleepover before. I've never left the house before, actually. I only leave if it's to shop or go to school."

Harry stared at her with interest. "Really? Me either."

Harry pointed out his grandparent's house when they passed. His grandmother had gone back inside, no longer tending to her plants. Hermione listened with interest as Harry told her about his first meeting with them. The talk reminded him about Hades, who was no doubt now being spoiled rotten by the older couple, and Harry told him about the short time he had with the black cat.

"He sounds so cute! I've always wanted a cat," Hermione said, looking wishful.

They pulled into the driveway. Severus shooed them off to the living room while he put the car in the garage.

When Hermione set her bags down on one of the chairs in the corner, the fire in the floo flared green.

"What on earth?" Hermione jumped, grabbing at her heart.

"Relax. It's just a floo call. You've read about those, right?"

Harry bent down in front of the hearth. Augusta Longbottom's face appeared, floating in the fire.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Potter," Augusta said, surprised. "Where's Severus?"

"He'll be inside in a moment. He's putting the car in the garage." Just as Harry said that, a loud crash sounded. Hermione jumped again, but Harry knew it was just the sound of the garage door closing.

Augusta didn't seemed fazed in the slightest. "Well, I was just calling to say that Neville will be over in about an hour. We're about to start dinner."

"Okay, ma'am. Thank you for calling and letting me know."

Augusta nodded, which looked weird with her head floating. Harry could hear noise coming from behind her through the fire, almost sounding like yelling or the crashing of plates and she looked slightly alarmed for a moment before jerking her head out of the flames, ending the call.

Harry sat back on his heels. He nearly lost his balance and fell on his wings. If it wasn't for Hermione standing behind him, he would have no doubt pulled out few feathers.

"You need to be a bit more careful, Harry. You don't want to pull out too many wings. You need to fly, you know," Hermione said.

That sparked a thought in Harry's head. "Hermione, do you know how to fly?"

"Huh?

Harry straightened, brushing dust and soot off of his clothes. "Do you know how to fly? We have a pretty big backyard that we can fly in. It's warded so the neighbors can't see us."

"Um, no I don't. Nobody at home can teach me," Hermione replied.

"Do you wanna try?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked down at her attire. "Well, yeah, but shouldn't we change? I don't think either one of our guardians would like it if we got our nice clothes dirty."

"Oh. Yeah I guess so."

Harry showed Hermione the bathroom and he went to his bedroom. When he came out, Hermione was waiting for him next to the bathroom, wearing sweatpants and a pink shirt. Severus was back in the house when they tumbled down the stairs, watching a show on the television.

"Where are you two going?" he asked, spotting them heading towards the backyard.

"I'm going to teach Hermione how to fly," Harry replied.

"At this hour? It's almost dark outside."

"We'll be fine. It's just in the backyard."

Severus thought for a moment. "Fine. But be back before your other friend gets here."

"Yes, sir."

The light was just starting to fade behind the trees as Harry and Hermione stepped their way onto the patio. Harry squinted at the trees, spotting a low hanging branch that would be perfect for Hermione to practise flying to.

"Try and flap your wings," Harry instructed.

Hermione's tawny wings, much smaller than Harry's, expanded to their full length. There was a feeble attempt flapping, and Harry instructed her to try again.

It seemed like forever before Hermione managed to inch her way off the ground. He had a slight hint of annoyance burning behind his words as he taught her the ways of flying, and he wondered if that was how Severus and McGonagall had felt trying to teach him.

The back door slid open, and Neville's head poked out. "Hey, Harry," he said.

"Hey, Neville," Harry said, carefully placing his feet back on the ground. Hermione landed jerkily beside him.

"Who're you?" he asked Hermione.

"I'm Hermione Granger. It's nice to meet you," Hermione introduced.

"I'm Neville Longbottom. What're you doing?"

A faint blush covered her cheeks. "Harry's teaching me how to fly," she said.

Neville perked, and he sat his overnight bag down. "I can help," he offered.

"Between the two of us, you'll be flying high in no time," Harry said.

By the time nightfall had completely came, Hermione was well on her way to flying right beside Harry and Neville. She was still miles behind them talent wise, but at least she was catching up.

They went back into the living room, exhausted, two hours later when the moon began to shine. Hermione groaned as she sat down in one of the chairs next to the wall.

"Are my wings supposed to hurt like this?" she asked, rubbing one of her feathers.

"You've exercised them too much. They should be normal tomorrow after you've relaxed them and rested," Severus said, placing mugs of tea in front of each of them.

Harry inhaled the scent of earl grey and sipped lightly at his hot cup. "Do we still have any ice cream?" Harry asked.

"You mean the int that you begged me for?" Severus said. Harry's ears turned red.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled.

"You've already had dessert. Why do you need more sweets?" The last part seemed to have been mumbled to himself, but Harry heard.

"Yeah, but Neville hasn't. Have you Neville?"

"What? I mean, I had a little bit of pie at my Gran's but-"

"-See? He didn't have any."

Severus' eyes narrowed. Harry put on his best puppy dog eyes, widening the green orbs until he knew Severus would cave.

Severus let out a little sigh. "Fine. But just one small bowl only. I don't need you three bouncing off the walls." He gave Harry a small glare, and he instantly thought back to when he had the coffee.

"Just one bowl. I promise."

It was perhaps a good thing that Harry hadn't eaten but a few spoonfuls of ice cream since he got it. The three bowls filled and there was nothing but a small bit left for Severus.

"Do you want some f mine?" he asked the black haired man.

Severus pushed his offering away. "It's fine, Harry. It's yours. "

"But if it's mine, then I get to say who has some, so here, take some." He held out a spoon full of the melting ice cream.

Severus rolled his eyes, but allowed Harry to feed him the ice cream. "There, happy now?" Severus asked, swallowing the mouthful.

Harry nodded. "Very."

Harry gave his two friends a small tour of the house. Neville had already seen it, so he hung back slightly while Harry showed Hermione. He showed them the hallway, and Neville busied himself by pretending to be interested in the pictures that hung there. Harry purposefully left out the secret potions lab behind the bookcase in the living room, but that didn't stop Hermione from running near it.

"Wow, he has so many books!" Hermione said, awestruck.

"I have some more in my room. Do you want to see?" Harry offered.

Just like she had in the living room, as soon as she stepped foot inside Harry's bedroom, she beelined for the bookshelf. His book collection wasn't nearly as grand as Severus', but that apparently didn't matter to Hermione as she examined each book.

"You have the Velveteen Rabbit! Oh, and the Sherlock Holmes collection! I love Sherlock!"

"You can borrow it if you want," Harry said. "I've already finished it."

"No thanks," Hermione said, putting the books back in their spots. "I have a copy of my own."

"Hey, Harry, do you still have your prophecy book?" Neville asked.

"Yeah." He grabbed it from his bedside table. "Why?"

"See if your prophecy has changed."

Hermione and Neville crowded around Harry as he opened the book. "What does it do?" Hermione asked, and Neville explained it to her.

Instead of just the word badger being written multiple times, owl and badger were written next to each other.

"Still with the badger," Neville said.

"Yeah, it's only when you show up, too," Harry said.

"Do you think I could be badger?" Neville asked curiously.

"Maybe. Would that make you owl, Hermione?" Harry asked cheekily.

"Well, I am very smart. Maybe I am."

"Then I guess that would make Severus snake," Harry mused out loud.

"Huh?" both Neville and Hermione said.

"I don't see snake written in here," Neville said, peering at the book again.

"It was when I first got it. There was snake, owl, badger, and cat written many times." I suppose Grammy Min would be cat, then, Harry thought.

"Then does that mean we were destined to meet?" Hermione asked.

"I guess so," Neville replied.

"That's so neat," Hermione breathed.

‘Hey, can you keep it down?' Spin hissed sleepily.

Harry, Hermione, and Neville's heads popped up from the book at the sound of the hiss.

"You have a snake, too?" Hermione said, bewildered, walking towards Spin.

"Uh, yeah. He's rather friendly," Harry said uneasily. Why would a girl like reptiles in the first place? From what he had seen with Dudley, most girls went screaming at the first sign of scales.

"You like snakes?" Neville asked, voicing what Harry was thinking.

Hermione picked up Spin, letting the snake wrap around her wrist. Spin seemed to be happy getting attention from other people besides Harry. Not even Severus would spend much time with the snake. He would just eye him warily every time Harry brought him outside of his room.

"He's cute," Hermione said, rubbing on Spin's head. Neville eyed Spin uncertainly. "What's his name?"

"Spin," Harry replied, ignoring the way Spin gave Harry a pleased hiss. He felt a pang of slight jealousy as he watched his friend play with his pet.

"Do you want to go back to the living room? I think Severus may have put down some mattresses for us to sleep on," Harry suggested, giving Spin a sideways look. Spin looked very smug as Hermione put him down back on his spot underneath the lamp.

Severus did indeed put down sleeping mattresses for him. Well, in a way. Severus was just finishing Transfiguring a couch pillow into the third mattress as Harry came down the steps. With a wave of his wand, the finishing touches were added. Harry plopped down onto the first one.

"Wait a moment! I'm not done putting the sheets on them," Severus said, shaking out a blanket.

"I'm comfy," Harry said, refusing to move.

"Okay then..."

A blanket landed on Harry, and Harry quickly untangled himself from the mass of blankets and pillows that found their way on top of his head. "Hey!"

Severus shrugged, his wings moving up with the motion. "I told you."

Harry saw Neville's eyes glint as he eyed the pillows. Harry ducked just in time to see a pillow fly by, Neville's arms outstretched, still in position to throw. "Pillow fight!" Harry yelled, grabbing one of his own.

"NO!" Severus ducked and weaved as an onslaught of pillows were thrown in his direction. "I want no part of this!"

Harry, Hermione and Neville squealed with laughter, continuing their attack. Finally, with a very evil look in his eyes that should have made Harry run for the hills, Severus waved his wand and an avalanche of pillows shot out of the tip, covering all three children.

Harry burst through the mountain of feathers and pillows, his glasses crooked on his nose. "I won't let you get away!" he said to a retreating Severus.

Severus turned from the kitchen door, taking a stance with his wand. The look on his face clearly read Bring it.

Harry reached behind him for another pillow, aiming his arm. His green eyes narrowed in concentration and a wide smile stretched his cheeks. He wouldn't lose. Behind him, he could hear Hermione and Neville do the same. There was absolutely no way.

The game was his.

With a battle cry, he let loose.

Harry shot out of bed at exactly six in the morning, completely wide awake and excited. He quickly got ready, taming his hair to the best of his ability and picked out his best looking clothes. He tidied up his room, even making up the bed for once, something he hadn't done since he was at the Dursleys. Spin glanced in his direction and went back to sleep once he realized it wasn't important enough to wake up.

By the time he was finished, it was barely seven thirty. Severus hadn't even woken up yet, and Harry impatiently waited on the couch, leg bouncing up and down rapidly.

At five minutes to eight, he could hear the sound of feet padding around in the older man's room. He heard the toilet flush and the running water from the sink as the man brushed his teeth. By the time Severus came down the stairs, Harry was nearly vibrating from a mix of impatience and excitement.

"You're up early. What time did you wake up?" Severus asked, running a hand through his fluffed-up hair.

"About two hours ago," Harry replied, his voice coming out quickly and jittery.

A black eyebrow raised. "You didn't touch my coffee maker, did you? You know you're not allowed to have coffee," he said, making his way to the kitchen.

"No, sir. I'm just excited." They had both learned the hard way that Harry was, under no circumstances, allowed to have any form of coffee ever. It took around half the day for him to calm down from his caffeine induced state after just one cup when Severus had allowed him to have the rest of his one morning. The end result was something neither of them wanted to experience again.

"Ah. Today's the day, isn't it?" He plopped two pieces of bread in the toaster.

"Mmhmm," Harry said, taking his normal seat at the table.

"Are you nervous?" Severus asked.

"Um, kinda. I'm mainly just excited." He took a bite of his buttery bread with a satisfying crunch as Severus handed him a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast.

"Do have any idea where you'll go?"

"I think so. But I'm not sure," he said hesitantly. Another bite. A swig of orange juice. Swallow. Repeat.

Severus gave a small smile at his answer, not noticing the tone. "Do you remember what I told you?"

Harry nodded. "You can come with me only to the entrance, then Grammy Min will take me the rest of the way. I remember."

"Good. I'm sorry I can't come with you the rest of the way, but I can't be seen. Too many people, and if they see me with you..."

"I know. I'm just glad you'll be there for my sorting."

Severus chuckled lightly, taking a swig of his coffee. "Well I have to be. Don't worry, I'll have my eyes on you the whole time."

Harry gave a sheepish smile in return.

At thirty minutes until eleven, after Harry had everything, including his stuffed dino and prophecy book, packed and ready, McGonagall came through the Floo.

"Is everyone ready?" she asked, eyeing Harry's luggage.

"Ready!" Harry replied, hefting up Hedwig's cage. He had decided to take only one pet to Hogwarts, leaving Spin in his room until the Headmaster deemed it okay for him to come. Severus would take care of him on the days that he would Floo back to check on the potion. The green snake didn't seem very happy about it, but agreed once Harry promised the tons of mice that he would send with his caretaker.

"Excellent! Oh, I can't wait to see where you'll end up, Harry," she said excitedly, shrinking his belongings and putting them in the pockets of her robes.

"Me either," he said, a weird feeling bubbling in his chest. He knew that she wanted him to be in her house, and he knew Severus wanted him to be in his. It was going to be odd, having to decide between the two. He didn't want to disappoint either of them. He knew as well that people would want him to be in Gryffindor because of his parents. He didn't voice this, too afraid of what the other two would say in response.

They Apparated, Harry feeling sick when they landed. Hedwig wobbled in her cage, giving out a weak hoot.

"This isn't King's Cross station," Harry said, looking at his surroundings. They were in an alleyway, the stench of garbage and God-knows-what-else filling his nostrils. He quickly clamped a hand over his nose.

"We're a few blocks away," McGonagall replied, placing a hand on the small of his back and steering him away from the dark place. "We couldn't Apparate directly in the station. Too many Muggles."

Harry only nodded in reply, wiping away the tears that had sprung up due to the horrible stench. Severus trailed behind them as they walked, staring at their surroundings instead of the two in front of him.

The station came into view a few moments later, the entrance looking like billions of ants swarming in and out as people made their way through. Harry spotted a family of redheads in what appeared to be wizard robes right in the middle, their hair and multicolored wings making it easy to spot them over the crowd. McGonagall went ahead to find a trolley for him to use.

As they neared forward, the family of redheads only a few steps in front, the feeling that was nagging in the back of his stomach increased tenfold, making him feel slightly sick.

He stopped, one foot in the entrance. Severus nearly walked into him, stopping only a few inches short of knocking them both over.

"Harry?" Severus questioned, a touch of concern filling his voice. McGonagall came back, Harry's luggage larger once again and filling the buggey.

"What's wrong?"

Harry swallowed, afraid of voicing his concern. "I um..."

"If it's about going away, don't worry. Both of us will be there with you when you come to Hogwarts," McGonagall put in helpfully.

Harry shook his head. "It's not that," he said.

"Then what is it?" Severus asked.

Harry clenched his hands tight, stopping them from shaking. "What if...what if I don't get into Slytherin? O-or what if I don't get into Gryffindor? Will you be mad, or...?"

Severus knelt down in front of him, stopping his nervous chatter. He placed his hands on his shoulders, his dark eyes boring deep into Harry's green. "Harry," he said sternly "Don't think about that right now. It doesn't matter to me whether you get into Slytherin or not, and I know for a fact it won't matter to Minerva, either."

Harry glanced to McGonagall's direction and saw that she was nodding along.

"I will--no, the both of us--will be proud, no matter what house you may end up in. You can get sorted into Hufflepuff for all I care. It doesn't matter, so stop worrying. As long as you are happy. Okay?"

Harry nodded, staring down at his shoes. "Okay."

Severus patted him on the shoulder, standing back up. "Good. As long as you know that."

Harry gave a small smile in response. He stayed close to both of the adults as they walked farther in, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the many Muggles that were in their way. He glanced at his ticket, and then at the signs posted above.

The redheaded family was stopped inside, right between platforms nine and ten. Harry gawked as he watched one of the boys run head first into a brick pillar. He closed his eyes right before impact, but he didn't hear the crunching sounds like he thought he would. Instead, when he opened his eyes the boy was gone, and other kid was running with their trolley right behind.

"What-?" he gasped, looking bewildered at Severus. Severus gave a small smirk.

"Don't worry. It's completely harmless. It leads straight through to platform nine and three quarters. That's where you'll load the train and head to Hogwarts."

"But I'll have to run into a wall!" Harry squawked.

"Watch the other family. Don't close your eyes this time," Severus instructed.

Harry watched as a boy looking to be around his age reluctantly take ahold of his trolley and began to run towards the wall. His green wings tightened close to his back before he hit, but just as Severus had said, he passed straight through.

Harry still felt a bit uneasy as Severus lead him forward. He stopped next to two redheaded boys that looked identical. He looked at the looming wall, gulping.

"Hello, Professor Snape! Hello Professor McGonagall!" the two boys said in unison. Severus barely glanced in their direction, but jerked his chin down in a nod as response. McGonagall gave a small smile at the twins.

"Hello, George. Hello, Fred," she said.

"George, it's your turn to go now," said the older lady beside them, which Harry assumed to be their mother.

"I'm not George, I'm Fred!" the twin said, giving Harry a sly wink. "Honestly, you call yourself our mother?"

The mother groaned, obviously used to the twins antics. "Fred, then. It's your time to go."

"I'm just kidding. I am George," George said, then took off towards the wall. Just like the one before, he passed straight through.

"You're first time, eh?" said the other twin, which Harry realised was the one called Fred. Harry silently nodded.

"Don't worry. It's not as bad as it looks. It feels a bit cold, but then it's fine," Fred reassured.

"Really?" Harry said, eyeing the brick.

"Ye-" Fred stopped mid-word, staring at his forehead. Harry quickly brushed his bangs over his scar, covering it. Fred's eyes widened.

"Fred, come on! The gate's going to close! We need to see off Percy and Ron!" the mother said. Fred reluctantly tore his gaze away from Harry's scar and followed his mother.

"It's almost time to go, Harry," McGonagall said. "The gate closes at eleven. We better hurry."

Harry looked up at Severus. The man, sensing Harry's reluctance, placed an arm around Harry's shoulders in his own version of a hug. "Don't worry. I'll see you soon."

Harry quickly hugged Severus around the middle in a tight hug, and before the man could comprehend what was happening, he had let go and followed McGonagall towards the wall. Before he passed through, he looked back, seeing Severus, one arm raised in a wave.

The inky blackness engulfed him, and he began to panic for a moment. It was just as Fred said. He felt cold. But then it all went away and he squeezed his eyes closed for a moment as the bright light blinded him. He heard the sound of a train whistle as it blew.

Wings of all colors and sizes greeted him once he opened his eyes. He thought the wings at Diagon Alley had been amazing, but he been so wrong. There were so many more here, all ranging in intensity. He saw one kid with bright purple wings, a boy with white-blonde hair with what looked like bat wings, and he saw one adult with butterfly wings.

"I thought we only had bird wings," Harry said, looking around the platform.

"Most do in the United Kingdom, but it is not uncommon of people who have ancestors in different countries to have different species of wings. It just depends on genetics," McGonagall responded.

"Wicked," Harry breathed, and for once he wished his wings were a bit more unique.

"This is where I have to leave, Harry," McGonagall said.

Harry looked up at her. "You can't ride the train with me?"

She smiled almost sadly at his words. "I wish I could. But I'm overseeing the sorting and I have to get back to Hogwarts as soon as possible. I'll see you soon enough, though."

She ran a hand through his wild hair, tussling it more. "Goodbye, Harry."

"Goodbye, Grammy Min."

Harry gave her a hug and watched as she disappeared back through the wall. He turned back to the crowd, marvelling once again in the wings. He saw the family of redheads begin to board the train, and one of the twins pointed at him. The boy that was Harry's age stared open mouthed, looking down the twin's arm in his direction, and the girl holding onto the mother's hand blushed and turned away. Harry ducked his head.

"Need any help loading?" came a voice behind him.

Harry spun around. Neville was standing behind him, his grandmother a few steps to the side. Her giant red purse still hung from her arm, and people had to maneuver around her in order to pass. Harry grinned, and the other boy grinned widely in response.

"Neville!" Harry said loudly, making a few heads turn. He bumped fists with the other.

"Hey, Harry! I thought you would have loaded by now," Neville commented,jerking his chin at Harry's luggage.

"I just came through. Oh, hello Mrs. Longbottom." Augusta nodded in acknowledgement.

"We can help you if you wish. I just got my stuff on the train," Neville offered.

"Really? Thank you!"

Augusta motioned for Harry to move forward, and with a wave of her wand, his things began to set themselves up. Hedwig began to hoot when her cage began to rise, and Harry grabbed it, soothing down his pet.

He heard the train whistle loudly. "I beleive you better board unless you wish to be left," Augusta said and they quickly scrambled on board. The poked their heads through the windows as the train began to move, waving goodbye. Harry watched the station get smaller and smaller behind them as they took off, and once he could no longer see it, he drew his head back.

They found an empty compartment and plopped down. Neville closed the door behind them.

"This is it," Harry said breathlessly.

Neville looked out the window at the scenery speeding past. "I know. It feels so unreal."

"Are you still up for that Hufflepuff courage?" Harry said jokingly. Neville gave a small, nervous smile.

"I suppose I am. I just hope my Gran won't be mad."

Harry had a sudden feeling of deja vu. "Don't worry. I'm sure she'll be proud, no matter what house you end up in," he said, parroting Severus' words from earlier.

"You think so?" Neville asked. Harry nodded.

A knock on their compartment door made them both jump. The turned their heads to see Hermione waving at them through the glass window, her tawny wings shining from the light behind her. She opened the door and sat next to Harry.

"This is so exciting," she said, bouncing up and down in her seat. "I can't wait to get there. I heard that first years had to ride in a boat to the castle. I wonder where where sorting will be held? I hope it's the Great Hall. The ceiling is supposed to be charmed to mirror the weather outside. Did you know...?"

Harry and Neville rolled their eyes at each other, an amused smirk tugging on their lips. They played a game of cards, only half-listening to Hermione. Once she got into one of her speils, she didn't calm down until she ran out of words or she exhausted herself, whichever one came first.

Another knock on their compartment door not five minutes later had Hermione stopping mid-sentence. The redheaded boy from earlier smiled sheepishly at them, peering in.

"Is it alright if I sat here? My brothers got really rowdy, so I wanted to get away," he said.

"Yeah, sure. Come in," Neville said, patting the cushion seat beside him.

The kid took the offered seat, maneuvering his green wings so he wouldn't sit on them. "I'm Ron," he said, holding out his hand. "Ron Weasley."

Harry took Ron's hand and shook once. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

Ron's eyes widened. "So it's true," Ron breathed. "Fred said something about meeting you, but I didn't believe it. Do you have the...?" He pointed to his own forehead.

Harry restrained from rolling his eyes and brushed his bangs away, showing off the lightning bolt scar.

Ron leaned forward to get a closer look. "Woah! That's so cool!"

"No it isn't," Hermione said. "It's actually rather rude, what you just did."

Ron seemed to notice her for the first time. "What?"

"It's rather rude, isn't it? To ask someone to show their scars?"

Ron's face flushed. "I er, sorry," he mumbled, barely glancing at Harry.

"It's fine," Harry said, his voice a bit strained.

"Do you know what house you'll be in?" Neville asked Ron, breaking the barely-there tension.

Ron's head swiveled to stare. "Huh? Oh, yeah. I definitely know. I'm going to be in Gryffindor."

"Really? How do you know?"

Ron's chest puffed up with pride. "My whole family's been in Gryffindor. Well, except for my great-aunt Alice. She was in Ravenclaw. But everyone else was in Gryffindor."

"That's pretty neat," Neville commented. "My mum was in Hufflepuff and my dad was in Gryffindor. So I think I might get into either one of those."

"What's house do you think you'll be in, Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged, a bit uncomfortable. "Um, I think either Gryffindor or Slytherin."

Ron's nose scrunched up, as if he just smelled something foul. "Slytherin? Why on earth would you want to go there? That's where everyone evil is."

"Not really," Harry said heatedly, jumping to defense mode. "I know tons of people from Slytherin who are good." So okay, maybe he only knew one person, and maybe that person was just Severus, who wasn't exactly a prime example but he was still okay. He was good enough.

Ron seemed to deflate a bit. "Well, it's still a stupid house. That's where You-Know-Who came from, you know, and every Slytherin that has been in there from the past few years have all turned out evil."

Harry wanted to bang his head on the wall. It seemed whatever Harry just said sailed directly over Ron's head, completely ignored. He shared a look with Hermione, who seemed just as exasperated as Harry felt.

Luckily, before Harry could comment further, something wriggled its way out of Ron's pocket. Hermione shrieked when she saw the large rat that was crawling over the redhead's lap.

"Don't be scared. It's just my pet, Scabbers," Ron said, picking him up and showing him to Hermione. Hermione shrank back into the seat. Harry could see Hedwig staring curiously at Scabbers out of the corner of her eye. He quickly put the cover over her cage before anything could happen.

"Please put him away," Hermione whimpered.

Seeming almost reluctant, Ron put Scabbers back into his pocket. "It's not like he will do anything," he said. "He's so lazy, it's a wonder he can even blink."

"I don't like rodents," Hermione said sternly. Harry eyed her sharply. Oh, so you like snakes, which you lied about in your letter, but can't stand rats? he thought.

"Okay, okay. He won't come out again," Ron said, putting his hands palms up.

"Would you like something from the trolley, dear?" Harry heard an elderly voice ask. He looked over, eyeing the large cart filled with sweets.

"No thanks, I have a sandwich," Ron said, pulling out a smushed corned beef sandwich.

"I'll take something," Neville said, getting up.

With Harry and Neville's combined money, they managed to get nearly half of the things on the cart. Harry got three of everything. Even though the old lady was looking pleased with the money she made, she eyed the dwindled down products with a hint of distaste.

They ate until they were full. Harry had a grand time unwrapping the chocolate frogs and chasing them around their compartment. He bit the head off of one, looking at the card.

"I got Morgana," Harry said, showing off his card.

"Lucky!" Neville groaned. "I got another Dumbledore."

"Do you want some, Hermione?" Harry asked, brandishing a box of Drooble's Everlasting Gum.

Hermione wrinkled her nose and turned away. "No thank you. I don't eat sweets."

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "But the other day at the restaurant-"

"That didn't count!" she said hotly.

"Okay..." He turned back to Neville, who was wolfing down a red licorice wand.

"Ron, are you in here?" Harry heard an older male voice ask.

I'm just so popular today, Harry thought as he once again turned to see who was at his door. It was another redhead, a Weasley if Harry had to guess. The older boy had freckles covering his entire face, and his glasses that were perched perfectly on his gaunt face made him look like one of the uptight workers that Vernon would bring over.

"Fred and George have stopped their prank war. You can come back to the compartment now," the boy said to Ron.

The boy's eyes scanned the other occupants of the compartment before stopping on Harry, or rather, Harry's scar.

"Blimey. Harry Potter," he said, amazed.

He held out his hand, looking almost flustered. "I'm Percy Weasley," he said.

"Er, Harry," Harry replied.

‘So tell me, Harry, what house do you want to be in?" Percy asked, forgetting about Ron.

Harry bit back his groan. He was honestly beginning to hate that question. Did everyone only care about houses? Just to see what would happen, he made up his mind. "Slytherin," he said hotly, glaring at the taller boy.

Percy's face blanched, and he gripped tightly on Ron's arm. "Come on, Ron. Let's head back now. I don't want you associating yourself with Mr. Potter," he commanded, and steered Ron out of the compartment.

"Wha-?" Ron jerked forward, spilling his sandwich onto the floor. As Percy dragged him away, he managed to give a small wave.

Harry folded his arms and glared at the opposite wall.

"I think the cushion is starting to smoke," Neville said, avoiding Harry's gaze.

"That was really rude," Hermione huffed, glaring out the compartment door. "Just because you said you were going to be in Slytherin? So stupid."

"Well if that's the way they're going to be, I don't want to associate with someone who doesn't have any common sense," Harry snapped.

Hermione shared a look with Neville. "Um, I think It's almost time to get our robes on. We're almost there," she said lowly.

Harry huffed. "Okay. Whatever."

.'.

Severus tapped repeatedly on the High Table in front of him with his nail, eyes glancing to the front entrance every few moments. His wings twitched along with the tapping noises, and he willed them still.

"You look nervous," Filius commented, flying with his tiny hummingbird wings into the seat beside him.

"I'm not nervous," he grounded out, giving his customary glare. He glanced at the entrance once again.

"The first-years don't arrive until eight. It's seven right now, Severus. Just wait," Minerva said, putting a calming hand on his shoulder. His jittery nerves didn't stop.

"This is going to be an interesting year, I think," Trelawney quipped. Severus had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. She said that every year.

"I know. I heard Harry Potter is going to be in this batch of firsties this year," Pomona said from the other side of Filius. That didn't help his anxiousness one bit.

"I h-heard too. I w-wonder what h-h-house he'll be in," Quirrell stuttered.

Severus and Minerva shared eye contact.

"Well, with both of his parents being in Gryffindor, I think there's a good chance of him being in the same house. Good for you, Minerva," Filius said almost enviously.

"It's a shame. I would have loved him to be in my house," Pomona sighed. Severus frowned sharply.

"We'll just have to wait and see," Albus said, eyes twinkling. He glanced quickly in Severus' direction. Severus sneered in response.

"As long as those brats don't cause any trouble, I don't care what house they wind up in," Filch snarled from the shadows behind them. Silently, Severus had to agree.

.'.

"Woah," Harry breathed, looking at the ceiling. Stars twinkled brightly overhead, and Harry could see the moon shining bright directly over the teacher's table.

"It's amazing," Neville said, looking around.

"It's just like how the book explained it," Hermione commented.

"It's pretty neat, I guess," Ron said.

Harry glanced at the older students, who were looking at all of them with interest. Most didn't even look at Harry. They couldn't see his scar, so their wandering eyes passed right over him.

He saw Percy glancing warily in Harry's direction, his eyes flicking between him and his brother. Harry hid his sneer.

McGonagall stood before the firsties as they lined up between the tables. She placed an old wizard's hat on a wobbly three legged stool. Harry looked at it, feeling a sense of slight disappointment. His excitement drained away slowly.

"That's it?" Harry whispered in Neville's ear, bewildered. "I thought it would be something a bit more challenging. What are we supposed to do? Make a fashion accessory?"

Neville shrugged. "I think we're just supposed to wear it."

"How would that do anything?"

Harry watched as a rip spread across the hat like a mouth. Harry heard a rush of air as it drew in a breath, and then it began to talk.

* "Oh you may may not think me pretty..."

Harry looked up to the teacher's table, searching for Severus. His face must have shown his confusion very well, because Severus just jerked his chin towards the hat again, telling him to pay attention. Harry set his lips in a firm line, still very confused about the whole thing, but turned back towards McGonagall.

Finally, the hat stopped its talk about the houses and the large room went silent in anticipation. McGonagall took out a long scroll, which looked about as long as one of the tables, and began to read.

"Abbott, Hannah!" she shouted over the crowd. A small girl with her blonde hair in pigtails inched her way forward. She sat on the stool, and Harry watched in fascination as the hat was placed on her head. It covered her eyes, and if it wasn't for her ears catching the inside rim, it would have fallen down to her shoulders.

"Hufflepuff!" the hat shouted after a minute. Harry followed her with his eyes as she took off the hat, her tie changing from plain black to black and yellow, and went towards the Hufflepuff table, which was cheering madly for their new member.

"That doesn't look so hard," Harry commented.

Neville shook his head.

Harry stood patiently as different names were called and went to their new house. Hermione's name was called and Harry clapped along with the Ravenclaws as she joined their midst. Neville went to Hufflepuff, just as he suspected, and Harry smiled as he shyly went and sat beside Hannah Abbott.

The blonde boy with bat wings that he saw at the station earlier sauntered forward when his name was called. The hat barely touched his head when it shouted out "Slytherin!"

Harry glanced uneasily at Severus as the boy sat down. He didn't like the way the boy acted. It reminded him way too much of Dudley. Silently, he vowed to stay as far away from him as possible, no matter which house he wound up in.

Finally, it was Harry's turn. Murmurs rang around the room like buzzing flies as he shakily walked forward and sat down on the stool. All eyes were on him now, and he nervously looked at McGonagall. She smiled. The last thing he saw before the hat went over his eyes was Severus giving him an encouraging nod.

"Well well, what have we here?" a voice said in his head. Harry jerked at the noise.

"A Potter, eh? I remember sorting your father. Easy one, him. I barely touched his head before I knew. Gryffindor, of course. Now, where should I put you, hmm? You're a tricky one."

Where are you going to put me? Harry wondered.

"Oh, you're certainly brave. But there are many different forms of bravery. Not all is just rushing into battle to save a damsel, you know." That hat chuckled, the sound bouncing around in Harry's brain. It was rather odd.

"You have a fire inside you, burning brightly, oh yes. You wish to be loved, but that gap is filling, I see. You want to prove yourself, to show everyone that you are not afraid, yes? You can do well In Gryffindor. Slytherin as well, no doubt."

Harry was slightly relieved. At least he could be in either Severus' or McGonagall's house. "Just put me where you think I'll be the most happiest," Harry thought, Severus' words from the train station echoing in his mind.

"That won't be a problem. I know exactly where I'm going to put you. You belong in SLYTHERIN!"

The Great Hall was silent as McGonagall took off the hat. She seemed to be the only one who could do anything. She smiled again, giving him a small shove in the right direction. He gulped as his tie changed to green and silver. Not even the Slytherin table said anything, mute with shock. His steps echoed on the tile as he walked. One could hear a pin drop.

Slowly, Harry slid into the seat beside an older student. He looked at Harry with wide eyes. Harry glanced up at Severus. Severus gave a small smirk. To anyone else, it would have looked threatening, but Harry knew it was a smile. He gave a small smile back in return.

After a beat of silence, as everyone finally registered just where exactly Harry was sitting, the Slytherin table exploded in applause.

"We got Potter! We got Potter!" they cheered. Hands slapped his shoulders, and Harry went dizzy trying to shake everyone's hand. He grinned broadly, feeling a giant weight being lifted from his shoulders.

He looked back behind him to the other tables where Neville and Hermione was sitting. They each smiled widely. He waved, and they waved in return. He looked to the line of students, still long with those unsorted, and found Ron. Harry went to wave, but stopped at the look on the redhead's face.

He was glaring.

.'.

Father,

I am writing this to tell you that I have been sorted into Slytherin. Just as you said. Although, I always knew I would be. There is no other place besides Slytherin that would been acceptable, after all.

There is one thing that I must mention though, Father. Something that might trouble you.

Harry Potter has been sorted into Slytherin.

I don't know how this could have happened. The Golden Boy, The-Boy-Who-Lived being in Slytherin? His Muggle-loving father and Mudblood of a mother were both sorted into Gryffindor, weren't they? It must be a fluke. The house actually cheered, if you can believe it! Rubbish, it all is. They're all traitors.

Don't worry, however. I will make it known that he is not welcome, at least be me. I am sure that Severus, pardon, Professor Snape, will agree with me as well. He always loathed Potters.

Tell Mother that I eagerly await her gift.

Regards, your son,

Surprisingly, Harry's first class of the day was Potions. He felt a bubble of happiness that morning during breakfast when he was given his schedule and glanced down. At least it wouldn't be anything terribly difficult.

His happiness ebbed away, however, when he realized he would be sharing the class with the Gryffindors.

It wasn't that he hated the Gryffindors, oh no. He actually found a lot of them to be nice, or the ones that hadn't sneered down at him in the hallways anyway. It was just one particular Gryffindor that, only on the second day, had already made Harry Public Enemy #1.

Ron had seemed nice during the train ride, friendly even. When Harry got sorted, he had hoped that the both of them would at least stay in each other's good graces. But that had apparently been a horrible thought on Harry's behalf. Ron had acted like the train ride had never happened. Harry didn't know what he did wrong, but it was obvious the young Weasley wanted nothing to do with him. He wanted to voice his concerns to Severus, but when the man had gotten through with his welcoming speech, he looked tired, almost as tired as Harry felt, and he didn't want to bother the professor.

Because that's what he was now: a professor. He was no longer Harry's guardian. He was someone else entirely, someone who could no longer spend every moment being with Harry. Harry would be lucky enough to see him outside of classes, nevermind every hour of every day. He was just glad that the man was his Head of House. At least then he would be able to see him for emergencies.

Harry ignored the glare sent his way from Ron as Harry walked to the classroom door. He stared at the wall instead, pushing the chatter around him out of his mind. He caught the blonde boy with bat wings--Malfoy, if he remembered correctly--staring at him intensely. Great. Did he want to hate Harry's guts, too? It seemed to be the craze right then. Even some of the Slytherins, who had seemed very delighted at the feast, had turned their backs on him when it came night time. The happy feeling that had blossomed in his chest had quickly became heavy like lead. And once again, Harry couldn't go to Severus. For once, he was actually wishing he would have been sorted into Gryffindor. But then again, Harry constantly reminded himself, it was only the second day. Who knew what else could happen.

Severus came around the corner, dressed in flowy robes that Harry had never seen him in before. His wings were tucked in tightly to his back, blending in with the equally dark robes. He had a look on his face that made Harry want to shrink back into the wall and disappear forever. He had an air around him that said that he clearly did not want to be there. Harry had a feeling that it was just a ruse, but he couldn't help but feel like it was real.

As Harry passed, he glanced into the scowling face. Seeing no kindness that he was accustomed to, he quickly upped his pace, finding a seat near the back and slumped down. God, he was not ready for this.

Severus--no, Professor Snape. He refused to call the scary man that was in the front of the classroom Severus--stood in front of a large chalkboard, his spidery writing written in white chalk etched on the board behind him.

Harry thought he saw Professor Snape glance in his direction, and just when he thought the man was going to give him a small smile or smirk like always, he opened his mouth. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he said, his deep voice echoing around the silent room.

"As there is little wand waving, many of you will just chalk it up to little more than chemistry than magic. But I assure you, it most certainly is. I don't expect much of you to have respect for the delicate science, but for those of you who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can teach you how to brew glory, bottle fame, and even put a stopper to death. " The last part was spoken so low Harry had to strain to hear. He never thought Severus would be one for dramatics, but there he was, acting like he was on a stage in Broadway. Harry seemed to be the only one to realize this fact, however. Everyone else was leaning close, sucking up every word the man spoke like a sponge, eyes never moving from their fixed spot on the black-winged professor.

"But then again, maybe some of you have come to this class thinking that you have already possessed abilities so formidable that you don't even have to crack open a book."

His dark eyes scanned the classroom, and everyone held their breath.

"Potter!" he said suddenly and sharply. Harry jumped in surprise.

"Yes, sir?" Harry mumbled, not liking being referred to by his last name.

"What would l get if I added Powdered Root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"

"What?" Harry blurted out, not expecting the question. Professor Snape's eyes narrowed.

"Don't ‘what' me. Answer the question!" he barked.

Harry quickly deduced that he didn't like this version of Severus much. Not at all. It reminded him way too much of Uncle Vernon, and that was never a good thing.

"Erm," Harry stammered, trying to think back to his textbooks that he had read. "They would form a sleeping potion," he answered.

An eyebrow raised, clearly intending for him to continue.

"They would form a sleeping potion so powerful , it is known as the uh, the uh..."

Professor Snape's face darkened slightly.

"The Draught of Living Death!" he finally answered, sweating.

Behind the dark look that seemed to have embedded itself into Professor Snape's eyes, Harry could see a small glimmer of pride. Harry silently let himself breathe a sigh of relief.

"Where would you look if I tell you to find me a Bezoar?" he asked.

"In the stomach of a goat, sir," Harry replied with more confidence.

The professor nodded. "What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

The statement ‘Think back to our sessions, Harry' was written clearly across the man's face, and Harry thought back to the time he spent the whole afternoon talking potions with Severus.

"Nothing. They're both the same plant which can also be known as Aconite and they can be used to make Wolfsbane," he said, and this time Severus let a small upward tug of the lips show, making his dark persona slip for a second before coming back again full force.

"Well," he said to the rest of the class, who was staring at Harry curiously, "Why aren't you all writing this down?"

Harry relaxed as the class went on. He found Severus to be a bit more tolerable now that he knew for certain that his current actions were nothing but a ruse. He didn't have to like it of course, but it helped to know that it wasn't real.

He ignored the stares and glares from the redhead and the blonde. Instead, he focused on his textbook, which was demonstrating the perfect way to create a Boil Cure potion.

Flying Lessons was later that day. It seemed like fun until he realized that, once again, he would be stuck with the Gryffindors. They all glared at him now, very openly and not so subtle at all. Whether it was from his display during potions or the fact that ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived' had ended up in Slytherin, Harry didn't know. Harry noticed Ron stayed close to two other boys, which Harry remembered from the sorting. They turned their backs to him, murmuring to themselves. Harry scowled darkly and turned away.

Their flying instructor, Hooch, had the largest wings Harry had ever seen. They were silver, like her wild hair, with hints of black at the tips. They easily stretched out far beyond what Harry's, or even Severus' could. She blew her whistle, the sharp piercing tone making everyone snap to attention.

Before them, brooms in varying shapes and sizes laid on the grass. Harry looked at them curiously, much like the other students.

"Today, we'll be learning how to fly," Hooch said, her gravelly voice making Harry's eyes flick to her.

A Gryffindor raised his hand. "But ma'am, we already know how to fly. Most of our parents taught us as soon as we got our wings," he said.

"I'm not talking about with your wings, Spinnett," she said. "I'm talking about with these babies right here." She motioned to the brooms at their feet.

They certainly didn't look like babies, in Harry's opinion. In fact, they look like what Uncle Vernon would use to kindle the fire before they got an electric fireplace.

"Why?" asked Spinnett again. "We have our wings."

Hooch leaned forward, her nose nearly brushing Spinnett's. "Why? Let me ask you this: What do you think will happen if one of you breaks your wing during the middle of a match or during the school hours? Your team relies on you. You're the only one who has a chance at helping your team win the cup. How do you fly?"

Spinnett gulped. "Um, you don't? T-the reserve takes your place," he stammered.

Hooch's eyes narrowed. "Wrong!" she shouted, and Spinnett jerked back away from the spittle that came flying out of her mouth. "You use a broom! They're just as effective as your wings, if not better!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am!" Spinnett said, shaking slightly. Harry heard Ron snicker behind him, hiding his grin behind his hand.

"On the count of three, I want you to place your hand over the broom and shout up! One, two, three..."

"Up!" they all chorused.

Harry was pleased to note that his broom was one of the few that shot up quickly. Others had just rolled around. Malfoy's had shot up like Harry's, and Ron's had taken two tries before it finally went into his hand.

"Now, mount your broom, with your hands holding the handle like this." Hooch demonstrated the proper way to sit on a broom. Harry noticed with a bit of smugness that he was the only one who seemed to do it correctly. Ron wasn't holding it right, and Hooch told Malfoy he had been sitting wrong.

"But this is how I always do it!" the bat-winged boy complained.

"Well, then you've been doing it wrong," Hooch replied.

"When I say go, I want all of you to kick off the ground. Not too far now, since we're just learning, but about a foot off of the ground. Ready, set-"

"Argh!"

Harry, as well as the rest of the class, looked up to see Ron soaring high above the rest. Whether he was so confident in his abilities to fly or he just kicked off too hard, Harry didn't know. What he did know, was that if Ron continued to go any higher, he would quickly become a simple, tiny spot in the sky. He was already high above the treetops.

"Mr. Weasley, come down this instant!" Hooch called. She let go of her broom and spread her wings, just in case.

"I can't!" the redheaded boy yelled back, his voice almost incomprehensible over the wind.

"Yes, you can! Just ease the broom downward!"

Ron leaned forward, doing just what Hooch had said, but he put too much body weight on the front of the broom, and Harry could tell from where he was standing that he was slipping.

"Ahh!" His scream was high and shrill. He plummeted down to the earth, broom falling behind him. He was nearly to the ground before it dawned on him to use his wings, and he spread them, but not fast enough. Hooch rushed to the air, but before she could get far off of the grass, Ron had hit ground.

Harry heard a rather sickening crunch that made him want to spew his breakfast as Ron landed. Students' eyes widened.

"Is he dead?" one girl whispered.

A loud moan broke through the chatter and whispers. Sniffling followed, and Harry could see from his point of view that Ron's arm was bent at a very awkward angle.

"Are you okay?" Hooch asked, bending down beside him. She shooed curious students away, making them stand far back.

"Come on, Mr. Weasley, let's take you to Madame Pomfrey." She helped him up with his good arm. Snot and tears were running down his face, collecting at his chin.

"Nobody fly while I'm gone! I want all of you to stay grounded, do you understand?"

"Psh, how pathetic," Malfoy muttered once Hooch was out of earshot.

"Says the one who can't even sit on a broom properly," Harry retorted. He didn't know why he was defending Ron. Even though it was obvious the boy wanted nothing more to do with Harry, Harry still hoped he would get over his prejudice and maybe be friends if he heard Harry sticking up for him.

Malfoy's white eyebrow rose. "Well, well, Potter. If you want to defend that moron, be my guest. You should have persuaded the hat to put you in Gryffindor with him, since that's so obvious where you want to be. There's no need or want for people of your kind in Slytherin."

Harry's eye twitched. "My kind? I'm a Slytherin, just like you. Who're you getting off telling people who they are and aren't?"

Malfoy sneered, contorting his face into something ugly. His eyes travelled past Harry, stopping on something behind him.

Harry turned as Malfoy walked over to it. "Looks like Weasley dropped something!" he said, picking up the round object. Harry instantly recognized it as a Remembrall. Neville had one, and he had shown it to him during their sleepover and told him all about it.

Harry held out his hand, giving the pompous boy a glare. "Give it back, Malfoy," he snarled.

Malfoy gave a smug grin. "You want it back? Prove to me that you belong in Slytherin. If you can catch this, I'll never bother you again."

He wound his arm back and chucked the Remembrall as high in the air as he could. It soared up, up, past the goal posts, higher than the lowest branch on the towering trees, and Harry instinctively spread his wings and zoomed after it.

Harry had to hand it to him; Malfoy really had an arm. He dove after the ball as it made it's descent downwards. His hair whipped against his scalp, and his ears popped as he sped downward. His feet brushed the long grass before he finally caught it. His victory was short-lived however, as he was met with the furious face of McGonagall.

"Harry Potter! Come here right this instant!" she bellowed. Harry shrank back. Malfoy's gleeful grin told Harry that it had all been a ploy, and he had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

As he followed McGonagall away from the field, he could hear Malfoy's taunts as he boasted loudly to the other students.

"It looks like Potter can fetch! He's the Slytherin's little pet dog!" A series of woofs, howls, and barks followed. Harry growled low in his throat, glaring at the back of McGonagall's robes, too angry to make a comeback.

Once they were inside, McGonagall stopped. "What on earth were you thinking?" she asked, her voice low. Harry gulped.

"G-Grammy Min, it wasn't what you think," he began.

"Then tell me what happened."

Harry's eyes never left the spot on the stone floor as he told the story. It was quiet for a long time. Harry shuffled his feet. He could feel the stare of her on his head as she processed what he told her, and Harry could feel the beginning of tears forming.

McGonagall startled Harry by bending down in front of him. She engulfed him into a hug, and Harry was too shocked to hug her back. "Merlin, Harry. I know you can fly, but do you realize you could have gotten hurt? You came so close to hitting the ground!"

"I had it!" Harry tried to argue, but stopped at the look she gave him.

"If you had been in my house..." she began.

"What would you have done?" Harry whispered, his voice coming out in a squeak.

"Well, first, I would have made sure you got onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team as fast as possible, then I would have worried about your detention. You do have talent, Harry."

Harry's ears perked up, and he felt himself blush at the praise.

"But," McGonagall continued, and Harry's shoulders fell. "Severus is your Head of House, and I am very sure that he will not let you off as easy as I would."

"But what about Malfoy? He's the one who started it!"

"I'll deal with Mr. Malfoy. I'm sure, however, that Severus will want to deal with you personally."

"You don't have to. He doesn't have to know," Harry tried feebly.

McGonagall pursed her lips. "I'm afraid it's too late. I've already sent him notice."

Harry felt a bubble of fear rise in his throat. Oh, God, the man was going to kill him. He was going to chop him up into potion ingredients and sell him on the black market. He was going to clip his wings and ban him from flying. He was...

Harry gulped. He was so dead.

The entire way to the dungeons, Harry kept his head low. He refused to look up when McGonagall rapped on Severus' door. He wanted to run after her when she turned around and headed the other way with just a pat on the head, but he squared his shoulders and walked past his guardian, priding himself by only shaking just a little.

He finally looked up when Severus cleared his throat. The sight that greeted him made him wish he was still looking down. Severus' eyes were filled with anger, and he had his hands clasped in front of his face. When he had that look, Harry knew he was pissed beyond words.

"Um, I'm sorry," was his weak attempt at apologizing. The words barely came out audible, and even Harry had to strain to hear them.

"Did you know I had to stop my class in the middle of their lesson to answer Minerva's frantic notice?" Severus whispered, his his eyes glaring holes into Harry's head. "They were brewing a very unstable potion. You are very lucky that it was at the stage to cool down, or else there may have been some very bad repercussions."

Harry swallowed.

"Now tell me exactly what happened. Why did you fly when Madame Hooch gave very specific instructions not to?"

And Harry was telling the story again, but this time, his throat closed midway, and he could feel the guilt rise and bubble, and he choked back a sob.

"You do realise Malfoy was playing you a fool, correct?" Severus said.

Harry sniffled and nodded. "I-I'm sorry, sir," he hiccuped.

"I am afraid that actions like this should not go unpunished. You could have gotten seriously hurt if you didn't know what you were doing."

"I just wanted to show that I'm a real Slytherin," Harry whispered.

"By doing something idiotic that could nearly cost you your life? That's not being a Slytherin. That is a trait of a Gryffindor. He played you for a double fool."

Harry wiped at his eyes.

He could hear Severus sigh and heard the sounds of shoes on tile as he came around his desk and knelt in front of him. Unlike McGonagall, when Severus put his arms around Harry, Harry leaned in, burying his head against the older man's shoulders. Black feathers brushed his forehead, tickling at his scar. He let out a small sob. "M'sorry," he said, his voice wobbly and weak.

"I hate having to punish you, Harry, but this is nothing I can let brush by," Severus said in Harry's ear. Harry's lip wobbled.

"Please don't hurt me," he said.

The hold on Harry tightened. "No. No I would never take my hand to you. I am going to punish you just like how I punish my other students. You will be serving detention with me after supper, and then you will go to bed directly after. And because of your actions, you have lost Slytherin five points."

Harry gasped. Severus was taking points from his own house? All because of him? The thought made him feel even worse, if possible.

Severus stood up, groaning as his knees straightened. "Go on to your next class. You only have one after this. As soon as your next class is over, I want you to stay in your dormitory until supper. Directly after, I want to see you here for your detention. Do you understand?"

And the teacher voice was back on. Harry was beginning to hate it. It didn't sound like the Severus he knew. Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

Harry still had a while before the next class was scheduled to begin. He headed towards the hospital wing, hands shoved deep in his pockets. His tears dried as he stared at the stone. He felt the Remembrall in his pocket, and he rolled it around in his hand.

Ron was sitting on the edge of a white bed. Madame Pomfrey was shuffling around, already up to her head with students sick or injured. Ron's arm was in a temporary sling, and he looked up when Harry walked in. Harry noticed Ron's eyes instantly hardened at the sight of him.

"Here, you dropped something," Harry said. He tossed the Remembrall in Ron's direction. He would be lying if he said he didn't find the scene of the Weasley trying to catch the ball one handed amusing.

Ron stared at the Remembrall in his hand, as if trying to figure out if Harry had done something to it. Ron said nothing in return, just stared at his Remembrall.

"A thanks would be appreciated," Harry ground out.

"I don't need help from you," Ron said vehemently.  

Harry felt white-hot anger boil inside him. "Fine then!" he exploded, making a nearby student jump. "Whatever!" He angrily stomped out of the infirmary, seeing red.

If only he knew that Harry had stood up for him. He had gotten in trouble, lost his house points and got detention because he wanted to do the right thing. But apparently Weasley didn't care about that. He still only saw the Slytherin part of Harry. If Weasley didn't want to try, then Harry wouldn't either.

The only thing that made Harry feel somewhat better when he entered Defense Against the Dark Arts was that Malfoy was still being chewed out by McGonagall and wasn't there to taunt him or whatever else the bat-winged boy felt obligated to do around Harry. Harry didn't know how he would have reacted if he saw the shock of blond hair in the state he was currently in, but no doubt it would have gotten him into even more trouble.

The teacher walked in, and Harry recognised him as the man from Diagon Alley when he was with Hagrid. His wings were bandaged tightly, and Harry could see dark splotches littering the gauze.

Quirrell's small eyes were squinted, looking over the classroom. His eyes skipped right over Harry, as if he didn't see him, going to the girl sitting next to him. Harry furrowed his brows. From what Harry remembered, the man had nearly stumbled over himself trying to spot Harry in the Leaky Cauldron.

"H-h-hello, c-class," Quirrell stuttered. Harry groand, laying his head in his hand. He felt hot. He tugged at his robes, and a trickle of sweat rolled down his head.

As the class continued, Harry only got worse. He laid his head down, fighting the urge to vomit. He peeked from under his arm. Nobody else was having hot flashes like Harry. He panted, shutting his eyes against the spinning room. Why wasn't anyone else getting sick, too? It must have been something in the room.

That, or Weasley had done something to him.

As quick as the thought came, it left his mind. Weasley couldn't have done anything. His arm was broken, and there was no way an eleven year old could have done wandless magic.

His eyes shot to the front of the room, where Quirrell was writing something on the board. Quirrell turned slightly, and his eyes flicked to Harry for the briefest of moments. Searing hot pain flashed across his forehead, and he brought his hand to his scar.

"Ouch!" he said. Students looked in his direction.

If he had felt sick before, he was downright nauseous then. He had to get out of the class.

Before he could spew onto the desk in front of him, he quickly grabbed his bag and sped out of the room, the smell of garlic wafting his nose as he left. Quirrell didn't even call out to him to stop.

Harry leaned against the wall, catching his breath. His vision swam, and he closed his eyes, fighting the vertigo. His head drummed lightly, making the twinge of pain in his scar more pronounced. He gulped in a breath of air, his vision becoming somewhat clearer. He needed to go to the hospital wing.

He leaned heavily against the wall as he walked. The hard stone scratched at his robes. Thankfully, Weasley was no longer in the infirmary when he entered. Harry let out a small breath of relief at that. He didn't want the other boy to see him in the state he was in.

Madame Pomfrey bustled him to an empty bed. He drank a potion, gulping it down quickly and instantly his head cleared. He leaned against the pillows, letting his breathing even out.

He closed his eyes, just for a second. His headache went away, and his hot flash cooled. Oddly, the smell of the hospital, which Harry had hated before, lulled him into a sense of security, and before he realised it, he was asleep.

He woke to see two fuzzy outlines of heads. Red hair came into view, and he drew away, nearly hitting his head on the backboard.

"Hey," said one of the heads.

"You're awake," said the other.

Harry blinked. Someone had taken off his glasses while he had been asleep. Quickly, he grabbed them from the side table and pushed them up his nose. His vision cleared.

"We wanted to come by and say thanks," said Fred.

"We heard what you did for Ron," continued George.

The twins stared at him expectantly, waiting on his reply.

"What?" Harry croaked.

"We heard that you got Ronnie's Remembrall back for him," George said.

"It was really important to him," said Fred.

Blearily, Harry nodded. "Yeah. Malfoy had took it."

"Thanks," they both said simultaneously.

"Listen, we know that Percy and Ron are being mean to you," said one.

"But know that you're okay with us," continued the other twin.

"It doesn't matter that you're a Slytherin. If you can put aside your house to help another, then that make you okay in our book," Fred said, wrapping an arm around George's shoulder.

"Uh, thanks?" Harry said uncertainly.

"Just so you know, if Ron or Percy ever makes fun of you or is being mean to you like they were before, let us know. We'll straighten them out," George said.

"Okay." Harry actually liked that plan. It seemed not all Weasleys were bigoted idiots like he first thought.

Fred and George gave an eerily similar grin. It looked like one was standing next to a mirror.

"Let us know!" They sang as they headed towards the door.

"Wait!" Harry said, stopping the twins in their tracks.

"Yes?" The turned their heads to face him.

"Is dinner still going?"

An amuse smile tugged at their lips. "Dinner was over an hour ago," Fred said.

Harry's eyes widened. With a muffled curse, he sprung out of bed, ignoring the way his head swam slightly.

"I'm late for detention!" he yelled, gathering his book bag.

"Good luck!" the twins called out after him.

He ran down the corridors, his sneakers slapping frantically against the stone. He wings flared out behind him. If it wasn't for Severus' warning about flying in the halls, Harry would have soared down the corridor, quick as a jet.

He wheezed as he slowed down near the potion classroom door. It seemed Severus was awaiting his arrival. As soon as Harry got near enough, the door swung open and Severus' angry look faced him. He was standing next to his desk, tapping his feet, arms folded. His wings quivered in a way that Harry knew he was mad.

"You weren't in your dorm, and you were not at dinner. Where on earth have you been? And you have the gall to be late for my detention?" Severus snarled.

Harry had finally caught his breath, and he sat his bag on a nearby desk. "I'm sorry," he apologised. "I was in the hospital wing."

Instantly, Severus' face softened a tad, and he leaned down to brush his hand against his forehead. "Why were you in the hospital wing?"

For a moment, Harry considered telling him about Quirrell. His eyes travelled to the pile of paperwork that was on his desk, and decided against it. He was busy enough.

"I felt a bit sick," he said instead. "I guess I fell asleep."

Severus took his hand away with a hum. "You feel better now, though? You're not running a fever."

Harry nodded. "I'm fine now." But his stomach didn't. It felt tight, and as soon as he got done with his sentence, it let out a large growl of hunger.

Severus' eyebrows rose at the noise. "You didn't eat in the hospital wing?"

Harry shook his head. "I ran down here as soon as I woke up and realised what time it was." He didn't mention the Weasley twins hanging over his bed.

With a wave of his wand, Severus conjured up a plate of sandwich triangles on his desk. Harry spotted turkey, ham, beef, and pastrami. His stomach growled even louder, and he reached forward and took one. The first bite tasted like heaven, an he quickly shoved the rest of it in his mouth.

"When you get done eating, I want you to chop, debowel, and pickle frogs. Save the legs. You have until curfew."

Pickling frogs was probably one of the worse things Harry had ever done. He would have traded doing a month's work of pulling weeds and mowing with dealing with the reptile. Every time he turned over one to show their belly as he cut into them, he thought of Spin. He knew that it was a completely different species of reptile, but the thought still made him gag.

Severus sat at his desk, grading and writing notes on the higher year's daily work. Harry saw the older man's upper lip curl as he read one, and he felt sorry for the strong words the kid was no doubt going to receive.

Harry felt gross as he walked back to the Slytherin common room. When he entered, heads turned in his direction. Malfoy gave a sneering look in his direction. Harry recoiled slightly as the boy walked over to him, a hand behind his back.

"Here, Potter. I got a present for you." He threw the item that was held behind his back on the table. Harry stared at the green and silver studded collar that sat mocking him. Upon closer inspection, Harry could see that the tag read Harry Potter, Slytherin dog.

Harry wanted to strangle Malfoy with it, but held back the last second. If only the Weasley twins' offer extended to blond-haired, bat-winged boys. Then Harry would have been really happy.

Malfoy was waiting Harry's reaction. A small smile was prominent as he watched the emotions fly across Harry's face.

"This is a great job, Malfoy. Did you come up with the idea, or did you have to get help from your little cronies?"

Malfoy sputtered, looking outraged.

Instead of adding fuel to the fire, Harry simply pushed past Malfoy and trudged on to the showers. He ignored the barks as he passed. He wanted to burn the damn collar, toss it into the fire and watch gleefully as it burned to a crisp.

The water from the shower was hot on his back. Steam filled the bathroom, making a thick cloud as he bathed. He stayed there until he was sure that the rest of his dorm had gone to bed, then silently slipped under the silk covers. He went to bed, feeling uneasy, and his forehead clammy.

.'.

Draco,

I am pleased to hear of your sorting into Slytherin. There was no doubt you would end up there. You are a Malfoy, after all.

As for Potter tainting the Slytherin name with his presence, well, that's can't be helped can it? If anything, it is a good thing he is there. You know the plan. It will just enforce the mission more, and drive it all to home, as they say. In the meantime, don't be too harsh on him.You may pick a little, but in the end we want him to be an ally.

You mother sends her regards. Enjoy her sweet rolls.

Your father,

In Harry's dream, he was running. His wings were paralyzed, refusing to work, tightly melded to his side. His lungs burned as air escaped and his breath caught in his throat, coming out in short wheezes.

Something was behind him, following him, tracking. Harry could hear it's high, raspy laugh as it stomped after him. Whispers danced around in the shadows, sending goosebumps down his arms.

He tripped, the hard stone scraping his knees and the palms of his hands. He ignored the sting of the rough floor as it dug into his skin. He quickly jumped up, running, pumping his legs as fast as he could.

A dark, large wall blocked his path, and he skid to a sudden stop, terror flooding him. He spun around, but his assailant was hidden in the darkness. His heart beat rapidly, pounding hard in his chest.

"Come out!" something hissed from the dark. "I won't hurt you!"

Harry breathed faster, near hyperventilating. He scrabbled at the walls, his fingertips bleeding and cracking from the hard stone.

"Harry, come out and play..." The voice was high and cold.

"No, no," he muttered, continuing to scratch and claw at the tall obstacle in front of him. "No, never..." He had to get out. He had to get away...

"Harry..."

A cold hand found its way onto his shoulder. Harry jerked and spun around. Quirrell was standing behind him, his grin wide and menacing. His eyes were red. Crazed, like a snake's. His wings, which were usually covered in bandages, were out in the open. There were hardly any feathers on them. They looked raw, pink, and diseased, almost rotten. Blood and pus oozed from sores splattered across the bony wings. His turban was unwinding, showing a bald head. Something was wriggling behind him, something oddly human, something dark, evil...

"Harry, I need you...come to me..." he said in the high voice, his stutter completely gone. Searing pain flew across his forehead, and Harry grasped at his scar, gasping out in pain. A trickle of blood ran down his head, through his fingers. He screamed, his sounds echoing all around him, making his throat go raw.

He screamed and screamed, the pain never going away. His throat closed up, his breath going with it, and not even the whimpers could escape. His sounds were muffled. Nobody could hear him...Nobody could save him...Nobody could find him...He was alone...

"Harry...Harry..."

Harry sat up in his bed, a cold sweat drenching his nightgown and blankets. He scrambled out from underneath the covers, groping on the bedside table for his glasses. He shoved them on and blinked.

He was still in his dormitory. The green curtains on his four poster were drawn around him, blocking him from the view of the other Slytherins. He peekd out of a gap in the curtain. Nobody was there. They must have all gone to breakfast.

His whole body shook as he tried to put on his clothes. As he gazed in the mirror in the bathroom, he realized his scar was scabbed over, as if it had bled sometime earlier. Tentatively, he touched it. A sharp pain echoed through his skull, and he jerked his hand back. The memory of the dream came rushing back to him, and he wanted to puke. He held back, panting, and made his way to the Great Hall slowly. Multiple times, he leaned against the wall, catching his breath. He just couldn't breathe, and he gulped in multiple breaths of air. It was like he had felt back in Quirrell's class, but only worse. The final time he stopped, a painting had shooed him away, and he scurried down the hall as quickly as he could.

He didn't want to eat, but he knew Severus would force him to if he spotted him ignoring his meals. He pushed his eggs around on his plate, only taking small bites every few seconds. It tasted bland. Even his pumpkin juice tasted like sawdust. His eyes travelled to the teacher's table. Quirrell's eyes met his and Harry flinched back.

"Guess who I am?" he could hear Malfoy say across the table. Harry grit his teeth. Hard. The headache that had been barely pounding behind his eyes began to throb painfully and forcefully.

"No, no please. Never! Gotta get away! Please, leave me alone!" His voice took on a higher mocking tone as he talked, and heat flooded up Harry's neck, understanding the jaunts for what they were. A handful of Slytherins laughed. Most just looked bored and tired, not caring about the charades that early in the morning.

Harry tried his best to ignore Malfoy for the rest of the meal. He caught Severus glancing in his direction on a few occasions, a concerned look flickering on his features for a second before being smothered down and being replaced by his persona's uncaring look.

At the end of breakfast, Harry felt a tap on his shoulder, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Severus stood behind him, his dark robes making him look menacing.

"Potter," he drawled, and Harry could feel his skin crawl at his last name. "Detention with me tonight after classes. Don't be late." With that, Severus swept away, slinking out of the Great Hall, the sparse shadows clinging around him like a blanket as he passed.

An older Slytherin boy whistled. "Wow," he said, sounding almost impressed. "Professor Snape never gives detentions to his snakes. This is your second one in just two days. He must really hate you."

Harry knew for a fact that wasn't true, but he didn't voice this. Instead, he stared at the path his guardian had gone, confusion muddling his brain. What on earth was that about?

He barely paid attention in any of his classes. In Charms, Harry was one of the first to make his feather float, but he didn't feel the satisfaction he knew he normally would otherwise. Malfoy sneered in his direction, and flicked his wand. A puff of smoke surrounded him as his feather caught on fire. Harry hid his smirk behind his hand.

When Harry walked into Transfiguration, he was just as shocked as the other students to see a cat sitting on the teacher's desk, McGonagall nowhere to be found. His shock quadrupled when it turned out that the cat was her the whole time. So that's why she had been amused the first time she had visited. His shock quickly ebbed away however, and the hollow feeling that was beginning to form in his stomach came back.

Herbology had Harry at least somewhat excited. He had heard great things about the class from Neville, who was the biggest Herbology nerd Harry had ever seen. That didn't necessarily mean anything, since Neville was the only Herbology nerd he knew.

To Harry's great relief, the Gryffindors were not paired with the Slytherins this class. Instead, the Hufflepuffs were waiting when the Slytherins tromped in. Harry instantly rushed to Neville's side. Harry got some awkward glances from the other Hufflepuffs, but he ignored them.

"How've you been?" he asked Neville as he grabbed the pot.

"I've been good. I heard about your detention with Professor Snape and the Remembrall," the other boy said. Harry made a low noise in the back of his throat. He speared his garden spade into the pot.

"What's the matter?"

He glared at his potted soil and refused to talk the rest of the class.  

When it finally came time to serve his detention, Harry was sweating, his attitude from earlier gone. It still wasn't about the Remembrall thing, was it? He had already served his detention for that.

He knocked tentatively on the door. It swung open on his third knock, making his fist hover for a second.

"Come in," Severus said, not looking up from his papers.

Harry uncertainly stepped forward, and the door shut behind him, making him jump.

"Um, you wanted to see me?" Harry asked, peering under his bangs. His wings twitched nervously.

"Mmhmm," Severus hummed in reply, turning the page.

"Did I uh, do something wrong?"

Severus twitched his hand, and the papers put themselves in his drawer.

"No," came the deep reply.

Confusion blanketed Harry, making his eyebrows rise. "Then why, uh, am I here?"

Severus crossed his legs, folding his hands underneath his chin. He stared at Harry, his dark eyes reflecting the flickering light.

"I'm worried about you." 

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "I don't know why. There's nothing wrong."

An inky eyebrow raised. "Really?"

Harry quickly nodded. "Really."

"I think you're not telling me the truth." Severus peered at him over his clasped hands. "I think you're withholding something. Is it the Weasley boy? Or perhaps the Malfoy child?"

Harry gulped. He fidgeted with his fingers, not meeting his guardian's eye. The action spoke volumes. 

"I see." Severus got up from his chair and made his way over to Harry. Harry could just see the tips of his shiny black boots as he stopped in front of him.

He bent down, bringing two fingers underneath his chin and raised Harry's head.

"Harry," he said.

Harry pursed his mouth together, making a tight line, refusing to speak. Severus had enough on his plate. He didn't need to worry about him....

"Please."

The simple word opened a floodgate. His lips quivered, and his eyes held themselves to the floor. He told Severus about the collar, the Remembrall, and the headaches. Severus' eyes never strayed from his the entire time he was talking.

"How bad are your headaches?" he asked when Harry was done.

"Bad enough that I had to go to the Hospital wing," Harry replied.

"And it only happens when you are in Quirrell's classroom?"

Harry nodded. "And after I had that dream last night. But I didn't go to the Hospital wing then."

Severus cocked his head to the side in confusion. "What dream?"

Harry looked at his guardian. "I didn't tell you about the dream?"

Severus shook his head.

He told Severus about his dream, shivering with recollection of the way his Defense professor had looked. "And afterward, my scar hurt badly and it was scabbed over, like it had bled or something," he added when he was finished.

A curious look flashed across Severus' face. "Your scar hurt?"

He nodded.

Severus hissed in a breath, quickly getting up. "And how did Quirrell look in your dream?" An odd look was present; thinking, calculating.

Perplexed, Harry replied. "Well, his wings were a lot like they are now. Um, you know, bandaged and stuff, but there was a lot more dark splotches like blood on the bandages."

Severus nodded, urging him to continue.

"His turban was beginning to fall off, and I could see his head. He didn't have any hair, and there was something on the back of it, kind of like a face. I couldn't really see it, but it fell almost...dark. Like, evil. And his eyes were a glowing red, almost like a snake's."

Severus' expression fell, and a look of pure shock replaced it.

"Are you sure it was like a snake's? It wasn't something else?" He asked frantically.

"Um, yeah I'm pretty sure it was like a snake's," Harry replied.

Severus began to pace around the office, clasping his hands behind his back. His wings quivered, twitching with concentration. He looked worried, and his lips moved silently as he talked to himself.

"No, no, too dangerous...but the risks are too high...Albus would be livid...he'll have to get over it..."

Harry stood awkwardly off to the side as he continued to mumble. He sat down in a chair next to the desk, folding his wings against the back.

"Sir?" Harry asked, breaking the man's train of thought. He looked up, staring directly at Harry, but Harry could tell by the foggy look in his eyes that his mind was still elsewhere.

"What's going on?"

Severus swallowed, his eyes flicking up to Harry's scabbed-over scar.

"What do you know about Occlumency?" came the man's voice.

Harry furrowed his brows. "Nothing. It doesn't sound familiar."

"I figured you wouldn't," Severus said quietly. He stood up straighter and unclasped his hands.

"Occlumency is a very ancient skill. It's been around since the medieval times, and is a very powerful skill that can protect your mind and close it off from Legilimency."

"What's Legilimency?" Harry asked.

Severus gave a small sigh. "I forget that you haven't had the means of access to particular knowledge like the rest. Legilimency is the act of magically entering one's mind and navigating through the many layers of a person's head. You can see memories, thoughts, and even emotions. If one concentrated and is practised in the skill, like I am, you can hear people's thoughts clear as day."

Harry blanched. "So you could hear my thoughts when we were back in Spinner's End?"

"Yes," Severus said with a little smirk.

Harry awkwardly shuffled his feet. "So Legilimency is basically like reading minds?"

Severus' lips came together in a tight, white line. "A mind is not like a book. It cannot be opened and read at will. The power is very complex, and can take years to master."

"Sir, why are you telling me this?"

"Because I believe that someone is trying to enter your mind using Legilimency. You need to be prepared and learn how to block against it."

"But who can be trying to enter my mind? What do they want?"

Severus leaned against the desk. "I don't know. But you need to learn. The only problem is, Occlumency and Legilimency is almost an abandoned art. There are hardly anyone left in the world that have mastery over one of the arts, let alone both of them. I am luckily one of those very few, but it is a dangerous practise that is not allowed to be used in school. I would have to get permission from the Headmaster, and there is no telling how long that will take."

"So," Harry began, "you want me to learn how to block my mind?"

Severus nodded. "Yes, but since we cannot begin your training directly, the most you can do for now is read on the practise. I can loan you some books from my personal library. I expect you to read at least three chapters tonight on Occlumency and Legilimency. Think of it as homework," he said.

"Am I going to be graded on it?" Harry sighed.

Severus gave a wink. "Maybe. I might just give you a quiz as well, to make sure you actually read it."

Harry gasped. "You wouldn't!"

"I might. You'll never know unless you read."

Harry pouted. "But I have so much work to do already."

Severus began to trace his lips with a finger. "And did you do it?"

Harry's eyes fund their way to the corner of the wooden desk. "Not yet."

Severus pushed himself away from the desk. "Then I suggest you head back to the common room and do some before dinner. I'll bring you the books afterwards."

Harry nodded. "Okay, sir." He got up from the chair and began his way to the door.

"Oh, and Harry?" he heard Severus call behind him.

Harry turned around. 

"Yes, sir?"

"I want you to tell me if something is bothering you again. Please come to me and don't keep it in like you've been doing. It's not healthy for someone your age. My door is always open."

Harry could feel heat begin to rise to his cheeks and he looked down. "Yes, sir," he said.

The older man nodded. "Good. Goodbye, Harry. I'll see you later."

"Goodbye, sir."

.'.

Not very long after Harry left, closing the door behind him, a knock sounded at his door. Thinking it was Harry returning, he made the door swing open with a flick of his wrist.

"I told you to head to the common room. I'll see you later--Oh, Mr. Flint. Do you need something?"

The fifth year boy stood in his doorway, hands clasped tightly behind his back, his wings halfway spread. He looked determined, a spark of determination in his eyes that Severus was used to. It usually meant he had a plan hatching, and Severus prepared himself for what was about to be said.

"Sir, I heard about Potter's flying yesterday, and-"

Severus groaned, rubbing his temples. "Mr. Flint, he's only a first year. You know the rules. I know what you're going to ask, and the answer is no."

Flint's jaw dropped. "But sir! He's the best flyer in Slytherin. Hell, probably in the whole school! He needs to be on the team!"

"Flint, he doesn't need to be anyth-"

"Please, sir!" he interrupted. He gulped at the glare Severus sent him, but continued, albeit a little more respectfully.

"You know I never beg, but this time I would do just about anything to persuade you. He can be a reserve for all I care. As long as he is on the team, we can have a chance of winning the cup again this year!" His eyes were wide, pleading.

"We win the cup every year anyway. You can wait for him to be in second year like the rest of them. It would seem unfair for the other students as well. Did you not think of that? If you let one first year break the rules, then every one of them will want something as well," he said.

Flint's shoulders drooped, defeated. His long, violet wings brushed the floor. ‘Sir-" he gave one last weak ty, but broke off, knowing it was futile. His eyes widened, reminding Severus of when he was a first-year. They were pleading.

Severus sighed. "Fine. Okay. I'll think about it. Is that better? Tryouts are this Saturday, yes? I'll let you know before then. But only as a reserve. I don't want him on the field full time."

Flint's eyes shone and a rare smile graced the older student's face. "Thank you, sir! I owe you."

Severus looked at the boy. "Yes, you do. Now run along. Dinner is soon, and you should not miss it."

"Thanks. Again. See you later, sir." He seemed to bounce in place, looking like a child who had gotten the best Christmas present, then he spun around and raced out the door. Severus could hear excited whoops trail behind him.

Severus put his head in his hands. He ruffled his hair, giving a low groan. He didn't know what he just agreed to, but he knew it wasn't good.

He glanced at the clock, seeing the time. He stood up, the chair legs squeaking against the stone. The torches lit his way as he passe down the long, winding dungeons. He passed the Bloody Baron, giving a small wave to the old ghost. The deceased man waved back, and floated through the wall, no doubt in pursuit of the troublemaking Peeves.

The sound of student laughter and chatter reached his ears as he walked into the Great Hall. He spotted Harry sitting by himself at the Slytherin table, away from the others. Flint was glancing in the boy's direction, obviously wanting to confront the young Slytherin, but held back.

He sat down at his usual spot at the High Table, and instantly a pork roast appeared in front of him, mashed potatoes and cheese on the side along with string beans. A cup of pumpkin juice winked into existence, courtesy of the elves. He quickly grabbed it and took a sip.

"I heard your youngest is joining the Quidditch team," said Minerva's voice beside him as she took her seat.

He swallowed his pumpkin juice quickly, choking on the liquid as it went down the wrong pipe.

"Where on earth did you hear that?" He asked, his voice watery. His eyes began to water as he gave another painful swallow.

"Marcus Flint. I saw him in the hall on the way up here. He seemed rather excited. He boasted about winning this year. He said he had a secret weapon, apparently." Instead of sounding angry, she sounded almost amused.

Severus groaned, placing his cup down. That boy really needed to learn how to keep his mouth shut.

"Nothing has been decided yet," he said. "He has no right to go around saying he will definitely be on the team." If Flint kept it up, the whole school would hear by breakfast tomorrow.

Her eyes shone behind her glasses. "So you are thinking about it."

Severus gave a sidelong glare. "Only as a reserve. He isn't nearly experienced enough to take full time."

"What happens if he gets on the team as a reserve?" She took a bite of her roast.

He sighed. "Well, that's up to Flint, isn't it? And why do you care? He's going to be working to defeat your team."

"It's Harry. Of course I'm going to care."

Severus gave a soft scoff. "Of course."

He turned to Albus, who was trying, but failing very much, to pile as many lemon tarts as he could onto his plate.

"Albus, I'll need to speak with you after dinner."

"Whatever for, Severus?" He placed a tart precariously on the top of the pile, and they all toppled over. Albus gave a mall chuckle and began again.

"It concerns..." His eyes trailed to the turbaned man, who was deep in conversation with Hooch. "A student."

"You know you can visit me at any time, Severus. You don't have to ask," he said. His pile of tarts stayed this time, and he plucked the topmost off and popped it in his mouth.

"Asking Albus if Harry can try out?" Minerva guessed.

"Hardly. I'm his head of house. It's my responsibility, not his. No, the matter concerns more...other things." He pushed his plate away, and it disappeared with a pop.

"Other things"? My, my, Severus, your vocabulary is slipping."

He scowled into his cup and refused to comment back.

~.~  

When he made his way to the Headmaster's office an hour later, the gargoyle statue guarding the door automatically sprung aside.

He gave three precise knocks on the oak wood door. It swung open directly after the third, allowing him to enter.

"Headmaster," he began as he stepped over the threshold, "a problem has arose."

Albus was seated behind his desk, Fawkes perched on his shoulder. The phoenix keened as he walked in and bowed his head.

"Yes, you said it was a matter of importance," he replied. 

"Quirrell-" was all he got out before the headmaster interrupted.

"And how has that been going, by the way? You have been keeping tabs on him?"

Severus nodded. "Of course, sir. But I found out something earlier. Something that I think you should hear."

"Is it about Harry joining the Quidditch team? By all means, Severus you don't have to ask me. You're the boy's head of house. I do believe that responsibility is up to you."

"It's not about Quidditch!" he yelled. Damn it, why was everyone so interested in the damn game?

"It's about Quirrell. Quirrell and Harry. Harry told me he had gotten a severe headache during his class, one that made him sick enough to go to the hospital wing. And then later last night, he had a dream. About Quirrell, and I believe the Dark Lord. When he woke, his scar hurt, and it was scabbed."

The headmaster looked thoughtful. "Do you think-?"

"Yes."

"And what do you propose we do to fix this? I can't fire him so early in the year. We don't have a replacement, after all, and the students would wonder."

"Let me teach him Occlumency. If he can block out these dreams, it can stop whomever is trying to enter his mind. He can't continue with this."

Headmaster nodded. "Of course. He's your ward. Do what you see fit."

Severus sighed. "Thank you, Headmaster."

"Of course, my boy. Lemon drop?" 

Severus rolled his eyes, declining.

.'.

Harry shut his Occlumency book, his mind spinning. That was a lot of information to take in. He didn't know how he was going to master something that looked so difficult.

He set his book in his trunk, making sure nobody could spot it. He went to close it, aiming on snapping it tightly shut. He spotted his leather bound prophecy book.

Out of curiosity, he picked it up. He flipped to the last page.

Instead of the writing that he had become accustomed to, there was something written there instead. He gulped, and his hands shook.

In black writing, the word Danger flashed at him over and over.