“Dismissed,” Severus announced to his first year Gryffindor and Slytherin class without even looking up from the essays he was grading.

               Everyone scrambled to bottle their potions and deliver them to Severus’s desk and leave the classroom. Harry had been the last to deliver his potion, which was slightly off-color. The boy paused for a moment in front of his desk, as if he wanted to say something. Severus paused in his corrections, his quill hovering over the parchment as he waited for Harry to say something. Instead, the boy sighed and turned away, leaving the classroom.

               Once alone, Severus sighed himself, then finished grading the essay he was working on. He moved the essay to the bottom of his stack, holding his quill up to grade the next when he remembered he had no classes for the rest of the day. That gave him plenty of time to finish grading the students’ works. And he was very curious to read the “extra credit” assignment he had given Harry. Severus shuffled through the essays until he found Harry’s quote analysis essay. He knew he should read the boy’s homework assignment first and make sure it was passable, however, his curiosity was getting the better of him.

               He held up the essay, seeing Harry’s name written in the corner and the quote written at the top: “Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself,” with “Rumi” written under the phrase. Severus frowned at the child’s poor calligraphy. It was challenging enough trying to decipher the boy’s required essays and here he was trying to make out an extra essay from Harry. What had he been thinking? As if he wanted to make his life more difficult or waste more of his precious time.

               Sighing, Severus began reading what Harry had written.

               At first, I had no idea what this quote meant or how it could relate to me. Then I thought about what my life was like before Hogwarts. And I realized that before Hogwarts, I was clever, and I wanted to change the world, or at least, the world I was living in.

               My world for as long as I could remember was the cupboard under the stairs. Since you already know about my room being a cupboard, I guess it only makes since to share the whole story.  My relatives hate me, and they made sure that I knew how unwanted I was, how much of a burden I was. I was an orphaned freak with no friends and no family that loved me. And I wanted nothing more than to change the world. I wanted the world to bring back my parents, who I had always believed to have died in a car crash. Even though Aunt Petunia told me my parents were no good freaks and drunks, I believed they would have loved me and wanted me regardless of their own faults, if they really were as my aunt said. This was the world I wanted to change.

               And then I received my Hogwarts acceptance letter. And suddenly, I’m a wizard and magic is real. I’ve learned more about myself and my past in one week then I have in years living with my relatives. I’m famous now, though I guess I’ve always been famous, for defeating You-Know-Who, though I’m not sure I really like being a celebrity, as you called me in my first potions class. I also have friends now, and they are the greatest friends I could ever ask for.

               I guess my point is that the world never changed for me. I just discovered a part I never knew existed. And I wouldn’t change it for anything. Even if yesterday I did, today, I would much rather change myself.

               I want to be more than just the freak in the cupboard under the stairs. I won’t let my relatives’ words get to me anymore. After everything I’ve heard about my parents, I want to follow in their footsteps and succeed just like they did. I want to live up to all my professors’ expectations, even yours. I want to live up to be a good friend for my first real friends.

               So, in conclusion, yesterday, I was clever, and I wanted to change the world. But today, I am wise, and I know I can’t change the world or bring back my parents or make my relatives love me. But I can change myself to be the best I can be. I think I understand the quote now. No one can change the world, it is far too complicated to do that. We can make the world a better place and do great things to help others, but we need to change ourselves first. We can’t share tea of the pot is empty. We need to improve ourselves and be the best we can be so that we will be ready to help others. We need to fill our own teapot before we can share it with the world.

               Severus sighed and set the essay down, rubbing his temples. Structurally and grammatically, the essay was rather weak and too informal, but the words and message the boy put out were powerful. It seemed far too mature for a boy Harry’s age, but if Severus had to take a wild guess, he’d say Harry was forced to grow up a little too fast. The boy’s essay was exactly what Severus expected, yet so much more at the same time. And for him, at that moment, it was just too much.

               No child should have to endure what Harry had. What Harry still had to endure. Severus closed his eyes and breathed, unprepared to deal with this matter, but knowing that he had to. Even if no one would hear him out. He had to try.

               Abandoning the rest of his grading, Severus pocketed Harry’s essay and left the classroom.

               “You wanted proof of malicious intent and abuse?” Severus shouted as he stormed into the Minister’s office, slapping Harry’s essay down on the man’s desk. “Here’s your proof. Straight from the child’s mouth.”

               Fudge glared at Severus for his intrusion briefly before picking up his glasses and skimming through Harry’s essay, leaning back slightly in his chair.

               “What is this?” Fudge asked with half-hearted curiosity.

               “The boy requested extra credit to push his grade up in my class and I asked him to write about the meaning of the quote written at the top. This is what he produced on his own.”

               Fudge was silent as his eyes flicked over the words. The man slowly looked up at Severus.

               “Children can fib on paper, you know,” Fudge remarked. “They do it all the time. This could be some tall tale the boy is giving you in exchange for a little sympathy. Or perhaps because he knows it’s what you want to hear.”

               Severus bit back several angry retorts, allowing himself to seethe internally while he forced a neutral expression, crossing his arms.

               “I highly doubt Potter would dare lie on an essay for my class.”

               “You seem so sure of that,” Fudge commented, handing the paper back to Severus, who neatly folded it and slid it back in a pocket. “I am surprised you are pursuing this situation once more. Your persistence is quite questionable.”

               “My persistence is questionable? What about your lack of interest?”

               “There is nothing of interest here, Snape. Now please, you may either leave this office of your own free will or I will have Aurors escort you out of the Ministry of Magic.”

               “You cannot honestly say that you see nothing wrong with Potter’s homelife. There is obvious psychological abuse and you should know the damage such abuse can lead to.”

               “I never said Potter’s homelife was ideal,” Fudge said, rising from his seat, his hands on his desk as he leaned forward slightly, “I do recall saying that in the best interest of the child, he should remain with his relatives for his own safety, regardless of what may or may not be occurring behind closed doors. And unless the boy himself comes forward and says he is unhappy and, preferably, feeling unsafe in his relatives’ care, there is nothing to be done. Now, Professor, are you leaving willingly or with an escort?”

               Severus held the man’s glare for several intense seconds before stepping back. He turned, robes billowing, and slammed the door to Fudge’s office.

               Later that same day, Severus found himself walking through Little Whinging, knowing exactly where Harry Potter lived. He used a spell that made him invisible to muggle eyes. He would need to remain under the radar. He wasn’t technically allowed to be where he was, but he had to see Harry’s family for himself.

               As Severus turned down Privet Drive, he slowed his walk, silencing the sound of his footsteps. If he remembered correctly, Arabella Figg lived on this same road, and Severus knew if she suspected any wizard trespassers, she’d alert the authorities and Albus immediately.

               Severus finally came up to Number 4 Privet Drive. He walked around the house to the backdoor, carefully vanishing the door to step through, just as quickly replacing the door once he was in. It was late evening now, so he wasn’t sure what the family would be up to. He took a moment to observe the simple surroundings of the house.

               There were Christmas decorations, though subtle, and pictures of the family. Severus immediately noted how all the pictures only included three members when he knew four lived in the house. Severus made his way deeper into the house, voices catching his attention.

               “And this is for you as well, Dudders,” a lady’s voice was saying in an annoying high-pitched squeal. Severus sneered as he made his way towards the living room, staying close to the wall to watch four people interact in the family area near a Christmas tree.

               “Thanks, Aunt Marge,” a large child smiled at an even larger woman, who smiled happily as she stroked the head of an ugly bulldog.

               “Of course, my precious Duddey,” the woman – Marge, Severus guessed – cooed at the boy. Severus watched as the young adolescent opened a present of a highly expensive new suit. “I know Christmas is still days away, but I wouldn’t want to miss seeing the look o your face as you open your presents. I always feel so bad when I can’t be here in person Christmas morning. You deserve the best in the world, you know. I wouldn’t want my only nephew to go without.”

               Severus nearly snorted in disgust at that but held back. The Marge woman turned her attention to the two adults on the couch, one large whale of a man and a skinny, horse-faced woman who Severus would recognize anywhere. Petunia.

               “And where is that boy you took in?” Marge asked, a disgusted look on her face.

               “Oh, he is at a school for troubled children,” Petunia was quick to say.

               Severus glared at her answer. Troubled children indeed.

               “Which school?” Marge seemed more curious, tilting her head slightly. “I know there are a couple around, but some places can be so lenient on children who are in obvious need of a strapping. I’d hate to see you waste money on an ineffective school. That boy needs serious rehabilitation.”

               “We’ve sent him to St Brutus’s Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys,” the large man spoke at last. “It is a first-rate institution for hopeless cases such as that insane child. We do not expect him back until the end of June. Good riddance.”

               Severus bit the inside of his cheek to avoid cursing the family. He continued to listen to what everyone was saying.

               “An institute? How fitting. They take punishment seriously there, do they not?” Marge asked.

               “Very seriously. We receive weekly reports about the boy receiving a cane once or twice.”

               “Oh good. A good thrashing is what’s needed in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. You know, I still don’t understand why you never put that boy in an orphanage. All he does is burden this family emotionally and financially.”

               Severus bit down harder on his cheek. It was not lost on him that Harry’s name had not been uttered once among the family. He couldn’t take listening to these horrendous people much longer. He turned and quietly left the establishment, passing a cupboard under the stairs, anger welling inside him at the sight of the lock on it. Everything in the house just screamed that Harry was completely unwanted and most definitely unloved. It sickened Severus.

               He apparated to Hogsmeade to walk back to Hogwarts, thinking about everything he had learned of Harry Potter’s life. It seemed that there was always something more to uncover about the Boy-Who-Lived. And the awful truth that no one wished to help Harry was beginning to dawn on him. Why did it always seem that he ended up with these terrible homelife cases?

               As Severus entered Hogwarts’ main doors, a loud crumbling noise caught his attention. He looked at the stone wall adjacent to the door, putting a hand up to it. The wall felt cold and a slight mold smell hit his nose. He leaned closer and listened, more crumbling and creaking noises echoing behind the wall. Something cold and wet soaked his shoe, and Severus looked down. Water was pooling on the floor, seeping out from behind the wall.

               Severus cursed loudly as he stepped back. The school’s pipes were obviously leaking and causing water damage to exterior and interior features. And he was sure the problem was extensive. Which would mean the professors would need to perform invasive and complex spells to fix the problem on each level of Hogwarts, and the smell of mold could become more pungent should the professors do so, which could indicate a serious mold problem that no one would want students exposed to.

               Which meant all students would have to return home for Christmas Break while the problem was fixed.

               Severus was sure that news would go over well with one particular student in mind.