At number 4 Privet Drive, Severus Tobias Snape’s reputation as a genius had been firmly established.

Harry had not expected a huge difference, indeed, as Petunia had applied the paste to his face that first night, gently wrapping Harry’s face in bandages to keep the cream in place, she had said “Now, don’t hope for a miracle, if it’s a bit better tomorrow, we’ll be happy but you may not see a change immediately. Magic cannot fix everything.”

Harry had nodded, his big, green eyes peeping out of the swathes of fabric. He mumbled something about Dudley and Petunia, who was just knotting the bandage around Harry’s arm, stood back and watched as Harry shambled into Dudley’s room, making moaning noises. There was an exclamation of surprise, then giggling. Petunia could not help but think how little laughter there had been before the accident; it never ceased to surprise her how much better the atmosphere felt- how had she not noticed the darkness in her home before?

The next morning, Petunia awoke to a shrill cry. She rushed into the bathroom, fearing the worst, and her heart lurched when she saw Harry, his face in his hands, crying, his feet surrounded by bandages. The sting of remorse caught in her throat, silencing her. Harry raised his face, he was smiling.

“Look Aunt Petunia!”

The horrible, ridged scars that had cramped Harry’s countenance had shrunk into thin, raised red lines. //A little bit of concealer and they’d be scarcely noticeable// Petunia thought, followed by //And this is only the first application//.

Harry was running over, gripping her arm with eager, gentle hands, unravelling the bandages //this is the first time he’s touched me// Petunia thought with a start.

“Look” Where there has once been a puckered crater, there was a white indentation, Petunia rubbed at it, surprised when she felt the brush of her fingers- it had been numb for so long.

“Oh my god!”

Then Harry was in her arms, followed by a gaping Dudley, who had been watching the scene is stunned silence.

Laughter rang out, followed by tears and the last of the darkness which had shrouded Privet Drive evaporated.

The scars were healing.

0o0o0

By the time Severus arrived at 4 Privet Drive to collect Harry, he had received a number of jubilant messages via owl to update him on Harry’s progress. A type of trepidation gripped him as he walked towards the door- would it be James’ face that met him? Would his feelings towards the boy change if it did?

Before he had a chance to knock, the door was wrenched open.

The eyes were the same, as was the smile. Harry’s nose was, admittedly, more like James’ had been now that the swelling had subsided but the face-shape was still Lily’s and the boy shared her father’s cheekbones. All that remained of the scarring were thin white lines, netting over the child’s cheeks like ivy branches, and one deeply engraved, pinkish scar- shaped like a lightening bolt- on the boy’s forehead. //Curious// Severus thought.

“Severus! Look! It’s all better, well, almost but Aunt Petunia said I can use concealer if I wanted to hide the lines but Dud said I look like an X-man so it’s kind of cool!”    

With relief, Severus felt his heart warm towards the child- he’s still Harry. “Well, that is an important consideration.”

Harry grinned “Yeah, can you come in for tea or do you have to rush off. Aunt Petunia and I made custard tarts with nutmeg”

Severus’ heart twinged- he had not expected Petunia to remember, he scarcely thought she’d noticed//So much for being a stubborn, unforgiving, resentful old bugger. If this continues, I’ll have to retrospectively switch houses and become a Hufflepuff!// Severus grinned as he thought of Lucius’ face “That would be lovely.”

Having been ushered inside and placed in front of a large custard tart and a cup of tea (best china, Severus noticed, observing the dainty, gilded tea-set with amusement). Severus opened his bag and drew out two, flatish parcels, wrapped in orange paper with a pattern of broomsticks and snitches.

“Whoa!” said Dudley, watching the broomsticks soar across the wrapping paper, winding around hyperactive quaffles.

“This is too cool. Thank you!” Harry said rapturously “What are those gold ball things?”

Severus smirked “Unwrap it and find out.”

After carefully unpeeling the spellotape and laying aside the paper of the first parcel with the reverence of a holy relic, Harry held up “Quidditch Through the Ages.” As promised, another- rather more serene- snitch flitted across the blue cloth binding.

“What’s Quidditch?” Dudley asked

Harry flicked through “it’s a game, played on broomsticks. Um, there’s a big red ball, which you’ve got to shoot through hoops, then there’s two black balls- they actually try to hit players?!”

“Indeed” Severus replied “Hence the two Beaters, they have bats and their role is to hit the bludgers- the black balls- away from their teammates.”

“Then there’s the Keeper, who tries to stop the Chasers scoring a goal with the red ball, and the Seeker- he goes after the little gold ball, the snitch.”

“Sounds complicated” Dudley said “It might be fun, though, but I bet I’d get airsick!”

Harry handed Dudley the book and carefully opened the second parcel. “Pre-Hogwarts Potions- Brew With Mother”- by S. Prince and L. Evans.”

Severus smiled “Lily was fascinated by brewing, even before we enrolled at Hogwarts. My mother taught us how to prepare ingredients by finding a common kitchen parallel; long-grain brown rice is, in texture, rather like a lace-wing fly, filleting a fish similar to skinning a boomslang and extracting the innards of tomatoes is rather like juicing a bubotuber. So much of potions is about technique and, although I will not deny that the best potioneers all have the ‘knack’, Lily believed that more muggleborns would excel in the subject if, like children of wizards and witches, they had a chance to learn in the kitchen, rather than being expected to pick it up as they went along in potions classes. Lily and I spent considerable time during our third and fourth year in the school kitchens, experimenting; I wrote the descriptions and she drew the illustrations, as well as thinking up the title.”

Harry was leafing through the book “You mean, Mum drew these pictures? But they move!”

“Indeed, there is a spell.”

Petunia, who had been carrying in a tray of iced buns, looked over Harry’s shoulder “We could, if you like, get in some of these things, so you can give it a go.” She stared at the illustrations “I had almost forgotten that Lily used to draw.”

Severus nodded “I put the book together a few years ago, using the names we had agreed, so that people would use it as it was intended, rather than some sort of souvenir. The proceeds from the sales go to a charity which helps the parents of muggleborns who were not expecting the expense of kitting their child out for Hogwarts.”

Petunia nodded “Lily spoke about that once, she always had big plans.”

Harry hugged the books “Thank you!”

Dudley clapped Harry on the shoulder. “It’s good you got something from your Mum, Harry.”

Severus then pulled out a large tub “And I thought that this might be appropriate, you must be running low by now.”

“Ice cream!” the boys cried

“Bertie Botts Thousand Flavours- Comestibles?” Harry read out “A thousand flavours?”

“Indeed, there was also the option of “Every Flavour”, however having once tasted a ‘wet dog fur’ flavour bean- Bertie Botts’ most famous sweets are jellybeans- I thought that it might be better to stick to the ‘food flavoured’ ice-cream.”

“Quite right” replied Petunia, looking green

Dudley had wrenched the top off “But… it’s all white!”

“Yes, but if you take a spoon…”

Before Severus could finish his sentence, both boys had dug their teaspoons into the tub

“Cool! Mine’s gone orangey red!”

“Uh oh, mine’s brown!”

“Dare you!”

“Oh! It’s snickers flavour!”

“Mmm I think it’s orange but it’s sweeter”

“Blood orange, I expect” Severus suggested. “Now, I believe that we should be going, we are
expected at the Malfoys no later than one.”

“Enjoy the ice-cream, big D!” Harry said happily, jumping up from his chair. Bye Aunt Petunia! Thanks for the trainers, they’re really nice.”

“Goodbye, have fun. Tea will be ready at six.” Petunia said

“Yeah and I’m making the rice-crispie cakes” Dudley said proudly “I’ve even got some Roses to chop up and put inside them!”

“Sound’s great. Bye!”

Hurrying upstairs to put the books away, Harry noticed a thin, brown envelope poking out of the back of the potions book. Inside, there were photos- not just of his mother but also his father. There was even a wedding photograph.

Grinning, Harry pushed the envelope back inside the book and ran down stairs, to where Severus was waiting “Thank you so much!”

Severus smiled (an expression which was becoming so normal that he scarcely felt the once unused
muscles) “Shall we go?”

“Yes please!”

The journey was unpleasant but surprisingly short. “So that’s why we didn’t apperate the first time” Harry thought, as Severus hung onto his shoulders, steadying Harry’s legs, which felt like limp spaghetti. Harry looked up to an amazing sight.

They were standing in what could be described as a clearing in a forest, if the continent of America could be described as an island. The huge circle of green land was edged with hawthorn hedges, keeping the pure white sheep safely grazing in their fields. The white stone paths dividing the hedges led to a garden, quartered into an orchard, a large lawn, a formal type of garden with a maze and a fountain, where some women were having a garden party, and what looked like a full sized quidditch pitch, where children were whizzing around on brooms. At the centre of the garden, an imposing white castle appeared to rear up and grasp the sky.

“The humble abode of the Malfoys”

0o0o0

As Draco dragged Harry over to the quidditch pitch, Lucius and Severus’ eyes met. A Malfoy contract always had a loophole and only the foolish would suppose that the heart-oath would bind the Lord of the Manor, not when the current Lord’s ancestors had formulated it!

“So?” Severus asked.

“Like little lambs.” Lucius said, smirking.

“Never trust a man beyond his own self-interest”

“A sane man, perhaps.” Lucius drawled “Fortunately those in the inner circle whose loyalty was beyond sense are either in Azkaban or dead.”

“Indeed. What is to be done about Azkaban”

“Even dementors have a price, my friend.”

Severus’ mouth twisted “It’s too kind a death.”

“Perhaps. My dear sister-in-law certainly would think so.”

“I meant for her demented cousin.”

“Sirius?” Lucius looked puzzled

“Yes. “The Dark-Lord’s Right Hand Man” as the Prophet styled him. The one who betrayed Lily!”

Lucius paused “Severus, Black was never one of us.”

“I know that, the Dark Lord kept his identity a secret...”

“No, listen Severus. It was Peter. Peter Pettigrew. Bellatrix did not recognise the man under the robe as her cousin- his voice and build was very different- and, when she heard the news of Pettigrew’s ‘death’ by Black’s hand, she put two-and-two together; the blasting curse would not leave only a couple of fingers, it would either be red mush or assorted body parts. When Bella broke into Peter’s house she found the mask.”

Severus gaped “Black is innocent? Why was I not informed?”

Lucius frowned “I thought you knew. It was common knowledge amongst us”

“I seem to recall that, after 31st October there was very little of ‘us’ about it. Those who stayed out of Azkaban- with the exception of that coward Karkaroff- scarcely acknowledged each other’s existence for half a dozen years.”

“Yes, there’s something in that. Yet, when it happened, just after it happened, the owls flew
pretty briskly, especially from Bella. She wanted to know where he was.”

“She barely deigned to notice me when I was right in front of her.” Severus said bitterly. “To think, for all these years he’s been in Azkaban. I thought he had admitted it?”

“He said something to the tone that it was his fault- probably because he had persuaded James to make Peter his secret keeper.” Lucius said blandly “However, the Azkaban sentence was more than earned. I know what he did, my father was a governor at the time, if you recall.”

“He was one of Dumbledore’s favourite students.”

“It did the old fool no end of good to be proved wrong, for once.” Lucius sneered. “He has always been too damn sure of his own penetration, judgement and intelligence.”

Before Severus could reply, Marcus Flint ran up, bright red in the face.

“Sir, oh Sir. Come quick!”

“Why? Has anyone been injured” Severus’ thoughts flew to Harry, who he had last seen climbing on a  broom.

“Only Gryff’s chances at the Cup! Come on, Sir! Hurry!”

Severus and Lucius strode (running was for boys, not wizards) quickly in the direction of the quidditch pitch.

“Look!” Marcus cried, pointing at a small, slight figure, who rode the wind with all the grace and adeptness that a penguin ride the ocean currents.

“Well, well, well.”

“We’ve got to have him on the team!” Marcus cried  

“There are precidents, of course, Reggie Black” Lucius said, watching Harry swoop and glide, as at home in the air as a zephyr.

Severus swallowed “There is, of course, no guarantee that he will be in Slytherin.”

Marcus’ eyes followed Harry possessively “Draco will be and Harry will want to be with his best friend.”

“It does not, alas, always work that way”

“And he well likes you, Professor Snape, we’re bound to have him”

Lucius smiled like a shark “Harry is a very sweet little boy, most biddable, and I know that Draco is very determined to make Slytherin and, what is good enough for Draco…”

“Yeah, and I really detest strawberry tarts.” Marcus said.

Severus and Lucius shared a look; if the youngest Malfoy could persuade a soon-to-be-second-year the size of a small bear to eat something against his will, Draco (who loved strawberry tarts with a passion) was certainly a force to be reckoned with.  

Severus sighed “Marcus. Harry will only be a first year, you know our rules?”

“Yeah, but Reggie Black…”

“Was born in September- putting him only a month apart from some second years- and happened to be a tall, well-built boy. Harry is small, slight and born in July- a day later and he would not be starting Hogwarts this year.”

“But… he’s famous, I’m sure you could swing it.”

“And cause resentment amongst those who are already jealous of his fame?”

“Well, I mean, I’d look out for him. So would my boys. He’s only a little ‘un anyway, who’d pick on him?”

“Marcus, dear boy” Lucius said quietly “Does it not occur to you that, as the supposed vanquisher of the Dark Lord, that some people may have a very good reason to ‘pick on’ Harry and that, in the very least, they could use resentment to trammel up support for whatever nastiness they intended to inflict. Even in harmless horseplay, accidents- sometimes fatal accidents- can happen.”

“Not to mention that a quidditch match is the ideal occasion to stage such an accident.” Severus added heavily.

Marcus’ face fell “But… he was born for it. Look at ‘im!”

Severus and Lucius shared a look.

“Marcus” Severus said “If you undertake to train Harry throughout his first year, if you ensure that he comes to no harm, within Slytherin and without, then I may be persuded to allow you to play a friendly match against Gryffindor.”  

“Not all Gryffs are honourable, Severus” Lucius said in an undertone.

“If Fred and George Weasley- who Minerva was only too happy to inform me were Gryffindor’s new beaters- harm a hair on Harry’s hat, I will eat my own broomstick.”

“Yeah, their Mum would use those bats on their backsides!” Marcus guffawed.

“Indeed. So, do we have an arrangement?”

“Yes Sir, anyone wanting to get to my new Seeker will have to get though me!” Marcus crossed his arms.

“Quidditch, the true unifier of all houses.” Lucius drawled, as Marcus ran off to tell the waiting circle of children the news.

oOoOo

“So, did you enjoy yourselves” Petunia asked Harry and Draco, as they sat down to the laden tea-table.  (Severus and Lucius had, after further consideration, absented themselves- thinking one wizard might be quite enough for the muggle boy).

“Yeah!” Harry said, offering Draco a plate of rice-crispie cakes (“Dudley made these”). “We played quidditch before lunch and everyone said I was well good!” Harry smiled.

“That’s great, Harry” Dudley said encouragingly- he knew what it was like not to be good at anything at school, then to find out that you were the best at a sport- in his case boxing.

“Yeah” Harry smiled “Draco’s well good at it too. I think we might get on the team in our second year.”

Draco, who had found the tray of strawberry tarts, nodded, his mouth too full to speak.

“And what did you have for lunch.”

“Um, there was this soup- it was creamy and salty and sort of yellowish”

“French onion” Draco said, reaching for another tart “These are really nice- Lolo only puts one strawberry- in the middle- but more are better!”

“And then we had a type of chicken stew and some potatoes with rosemary and, for dessert, we had a chocolate and raspberry tart with raspberry ice cream!”

“And were the other children nice.”

“Yeah, though there was one with a book about a muggle” Harry said, frowning.

“Yeah, but that’s just a stupid comic for babies!” Draco interrupted quickly “Everyone knows that muggles are like us, but without the magic.”

Petunia smirked //My, someone has taught him well//

“Anyhow” Draco said “Pansy was nice to you and Blaise. Crabbe and Goyle didn’t say much because they don’t know what to say most of the time and Milly’s shy. Tracy’s a little cow, though”

Harry giggled “You mustn’t say that!”

“Well she is!”

“She was only being cheeky” Harry replied, smiling “I don’t think she meant it!”

“Why, what did she say?!” Dudley asked.

 “Oh, just that I was Draco’s new pet”

“She didn’t!”

“She did!” Draco said hotly. “But it didn’t matter much, because the other kids had to head home with their parents and then we did the Two Godfathers!”

“What’s that?” Dudley asked

Draco grinned, warming to his audience “Well, it’s like the muggle idea of a fairy godmother and three wishes, only nobody has three godparents- just two sets, one chosen by the mother, the other by the father. Now, on a boy’s birthday, each of his godfathers gives him a special gift- they each teach him a spell. It’s usually something of special significance. Oh, and if you’re a girl, it’s your godmothers who teach the spell.”

“I didn’t know that Harry had godparents” said Dudley

“Well, um, I think something happened to them in the war- lots of us only have one godparent, I’ve just got Severus, so usually a cousin steps in as my second godfather. Daddy- I mean father- and Severus acted as Harry’s godfathers.”

“Yeah, and Lucius did something really cool!” Harry said excitedly “His spell was ‘hominem revelio but, get this, he asked Severus to cast it because…”

“He turned into a huge white lion!!!” Draco cried.

“I thought the lion was the symbol of Gryffindor?” Petunia said

“Yes, well” Draco looked slightly embarrassed “lions are noble animals and, anyway, at least he’s not a gold like the Gryffindor lion. White’s practically silver, anyway.”

“And we got to ride on his back!” Harry added excitedly “Draco said we could and he ran all the way around the garden with us!”

Struggling to contain her laughter at the thought of the suave Malfoy patriarch being used as a beast of burden, Petunia asked “And what was Severus’ spell?”

“Expelliarmus” Harry said promptly

“It disarms the person and throws them back” Draco added

//Revealing hidden foes and fending off attacks// Petunia thought pensively //Smeltings may be boring but at least it sounds rather safer than Hogwards//

0o0o0

When Severus arrived to pick up Draco, the boys were immersed deeply in one of Dudley’s shoot-em-up games. He discretely took Petunia aside “I need your advice, Petunia. It is about someone we both know, someone who we have cause to dislike.”

“Tracy Davies?” Petunia replied lightly, a little worried by Severus’ gravity.

“What? Oh, no. Born to trouble as the sparks fly upwards, that one. No. Are you able to find a way of getting the boys out of the house for half an hour tomorrow.”

“There’s a swimming pool in town. I could tell them they need to work off some of the food they’ve put away today” Petunia said “But what is it all about?”