Harry waited, in the dark of his cupboard, for someone to let him out to go to the bathroom. Also, for something to drink and just maybe some bread. He couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t his fault he was being punished . . . he had no idea how he got to the roof.

But what he really wanted right now was to go to the bathroom. He wasn’t let out at all yesterday, and it seemed that today would be the same. Wasn’t given any water (although, since he had to go to the bathroom, that was probably a good thing), and the vent that would let light through was kept closed.

Harry wondered how long he would have to stay in his cupboard this time. In a week, school would be over for the summer, and he really wanted to be there the last day. Even if no one would talk to him, since he had no friends, the last day was still always fun.

Seriously thinking about ‘accidently’ knocking on the door to prove to the Dursley’s that he was still there, Harry thought about his options. He could just lay there and wait until they let him out, but by then he probably already would have peed his pants, thus getting in trouble. Or, he could knock and disturb the Dursley’s and get in trouble anyway. Both options would for sure get his punishment prolonged, but if he peed in his cupboard, he’d have to clean it out, and he really didn’t want to do that. He cleaned enough on a normal day.

So when Aunt Petunia walked past his cupboard door (he could tell by how she walked), he knocked. After what seemed like forever, she finally unlatched and opened the door.

"Bathroom," she said. "You have five minutes." Not wasting any time, Harry jumped out of his cupboard and walked to the bathroom as fast as he could without getting reprimanded for running.

While he was in the bathroom, Harry heard someone knock at the front door. Not wasting time worrying about it, Harry quickly relieved himself, then turned to the sink. Thinking that he probably wasn’t going to get any water before he was shoved back into his cupboard, he took the glass from inside the mirror cupboard, filled it, and gulped the water down. After he filled up with as much water as his stomach could take, Harry dried the glass, put it back, and made his way back to his cupboard.

"The young Mr. Potter is required to be there. It will only be for a few hours. He will be back by dinner time, Mrs. Durlsey." That’s me! thought Harry, and he walked down the hall and peered around the corner.

"What could be so important that a ten year old boy needs to be at?" Aunt Petunia huffed. "Is he getting anything?"

"I do not know. I am only here to pick him up, that is all," the man said, sounding bored. "I originally went to his school, but he was not there."

"Well, he’s sick. He really shouldn’t be going any . . ."

"Is this him?" the man said, spotting Harry peering around at them. "Mr. Potter?" Harry nodded, not moving from his spot. "I am here to take you to the reading of a will of a Ms. Eileen Prince."

"Who’s she?" Harry asked, curious. "And what’s a will?"

"If you will get dressed, Mr. Potter, we will be leaving," the man said, ignoring Harry’s questions. Harry went to his cupboard and put his socks and shoes on before walking back to the living room. He was currently wearing his best clothes, so he didn’t bother changing.

"I thought I told you to get dressed?" the man asked. He continued before Harry could answer. "Oh, well, we must be going. Come along." Unexpectedly, the tall man picked Harry up, much to his discomfort. He was ten; too old to be carried! "How old are you, boy?" the man asked as he put Harry down beside a black car. "You look about eight."

"I’m ten!" Harry said, offended.

"Well, you look eight. Well, into the car," he said, and Harry got in, glaring slightly at the man. People always thought he was younger than he really was. It wasn’t his fault he was so small. His parents were probably small, too. That’s what Uncle Vernon always said when he asked.

The trip to where they were going seemed like forever, and Harry spent the time wondering who this Prince lady was, what a will was, and where exactly they were going. The more he thought about it, he realized he didn’t know the name of the man that he was with.

At a very long time of doing absolutely nothing, the man parked the car and lead Harry inside a very professional-like building. It was in there that he noticed how weird everyone was dressed. Everyone, even the boys, looked like they were wearing dresses!

A few minutes later, Harry was sitting, very uncomfortable, at a table with a bunch of people in those dresses. A lot of them looked at him with awe, for whatever reason, Harry did not know, some of them didn’t even seem to notice him there, and one, a man dressed all in black, with long black hair and a glare that rivaled Uncle Vernon’s, was glaring at Harry like he hated him. Seeing that, he looked down at his hands, intent on ignoring everyone in the room until it was time to go home. Not that he was looking forward to going home. Aunt Petunia would probably be mad at him for going with the man, even though he had no choice in the matter.

Unknowingly to Harry, who was falling asleep from the lack of food, a man walked into the room and began reading the will. Harry woke just in time to hear his name being called.

"‘And Harry Potter. I have included a letter that you might find disturbing, although you probably have guessed at what it holds by listening to what I have already written. I assure you, everything in that letter is true. Included is proof.’ That is everything," a lady said, handing Harry an envelope. This meeting is dismissed."

Harry looked at the letter in his hands, barely aware of the people filing out of the room. He was thinking about reading it when he got back, or in the car, but right now, it felt like he was about to fall asleep again.

"Well, open it and read!" hissed the man who was glaring at him earlier. Harry looked around and realized that everyone but he, that glare-man, and the man who brought him here had left the room. Not wanting to get in trouble, Harry opened it and read.

"May I see?" the dark haired man asked flatly, holding out the hand. Harry handed him the certificate, but kept the letter. If was from his mother, his real mother, and he didn’t want to let it go. Then he realized that the man who stayed behind, the mean looking man, was probably his brother. He looked up at the man to find him looking blankly at the certificate. He seems a little old to be my brother, Harry thought. Deciding to take the chance of getting yelled at, Harry decided to speak.

"So . . . you’re my brother?" he asked the older man.

"It would appear so," he sneered, then turned to the other man in the room. "Take us to the boy’s home. I will take care of everything from there," Severus told the man. He wasn’t happy about this . . . not at all. Worst of all . . his brother was Harry Potter. Not that I will call him that. His name is Silas, and that is what I will call him. Severus didn’t bother to see if the boy was following, just walked.

"Do you mind if we apparate?" the business man asked. "I am capable of apparating three along side of me, so it will be no trouble."

"Since it will be quicker, no, I do not mind," Severus sneered. A few seconds later, Severus and, the man, and the boy (who had fallen to the ground, wide-eyed) were in a concealed area on Privet Drive.

"The house is Number Four. If you have it under control, I have more important business to attend to than escorting." After Severus’ nod, the man left Harry and the dark haired man alone.

"Well?" the man asked, and Harry got up to his feet.

"Well, what?" Harry wondered out loud, and he got another glare from his older brother.

"I assume you can lead me to . . . where you live?" Harry nodded and walked to the Dursley’s house. As mean as his brother appeared to be, his mother wanted him to take care of him, so it had to be better than at the Dursley’s.

At the door of Number Four, Harry stood behind Severus as the man knocked on the door. A few seconds later, Dudley answered the door.

"Where are your parents?" Severus asked the fat boy, and he left, leaving the door open. Severus took it as in invitation in, and Harry followed, staying quiet. Actually, he expected Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to be happy that he was leaving. At least, Harry thought he was leaving. The man didn’t actually say so, but why else would he be here?

"Yes?" Aunt Petunia asked, uncomfortable that the man just walked right in the door. Then she noticed the clothes. "You’re . . . you’re one of them aren’t you? What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"Believe me when I say I am not happy to be here, either. But after finding out some rather . . . disconcerting news, I am taking the boy with me. Boy," Severus started to say, then changed his mind. "Silas, go pack your belongings while I explain the situation to these . . . muggles." Harry did so, a little surprised at the use of the name Silas, but then figured that it was the name that his brother would be calling him. In his cupboard, throwing everything he had (which wasn’t much) into his book bag, Harry listen to the conversation in the other room.

"Silas? The boy is not Silas, it’s Harry. And what is this news?"

"The news is that Harry Potter is not his real name, and the Potter’s were not his real parents. As it is, I am his brother, and since our parents are now deceased, I will be taking him with me." Not wanting a fight to start, Harry hurried out of his cupboard and went back to his brother and Aunt Petunia. His brother sneered at him. "Is that all you are bringing? You will not be coming back."

"This is all I have," Harry answered.

"Fine. Say goodbye, then we will be leaving." Harry looked at Aunt Petunia. When Harry came back into the room, she started dusting the mantle above the fireplace, ignoring Harry completely. Figuring she didn’t want to say goodbye, Harry shrugged, and turned to his brother.

"I’m ready to go," Harry said. At that, Severus grabbed Harry’s shoulder, and apparated them both to his house. "How do we do that?" Harry asked from where he fell on the wood floor.

"It’s called apparating. Come with me." Harry followed him, looking around. The house wasn’t big. In fact, Harry didn’t even see any stairs. That is until his brother opened a door. Harry followed him up the stairs and saw that the second floor seemed smaller than the first. It was a very short hallway with three rooms. Harry was brought out of his musings by his brother speaking up.

"This is the library. Do not go in there unless you ask. This next room is mine. Do not go in. If you need me, and I am in there, knock. This next room will be yours. Do what you wish to it, as long as nothing gets destroyed, hear me?" Harry nodded, looking around the room they just entered. It wasn’t very special, but it was a lot better than his cupboard. It was plain with a wardrobe, a bed, and a small bookshelf. Harry was about to thank his brother, but when he turned around, the man was gone.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry held his book bag upside down and let everything fall out. He sorted his too big clothes from his school papers, and he put the blanket on the bed.

---------------------------------------

Lucius, stepping out of the fireplace, laughed.

"Severus, it will be fine. He is Draco’s age, correct? He will be starting Hogwarts September, and you will rarely see him."

"Draco’s age . . . yes, I suppose he is," answered Severus. "He seems way to small to be ten years old. Neither of my parents were short, so why is he? And you should see what he is wearing!"

"Yes, yes, you’ll have to get him some wizard clothes. Muggle clothes are infuriating. So . . . inappropriate. Will you be getting to Hogsmede soon?"

"Yes, I plan to going later today. I will not have him dressing like that. I also need to buy a desk for him room."

"Ah. It will be all right, Severus."

"I just hope he doesn’t act like a spoiled brat."

"What are you going to do about his identity?"

"What?" Severus asked, Lucius obviously bringing him out of him musings. "Well, he is Silas Prince, and he will go to school as such. I suppose if he is asked if he is Harry Potter, he’ll have to answer yes . . . I deal with it later. I have two months to do so."

"Mm," Lucius answered. "Well, bring him by the manor tomorrow. About two? If he was raised by muggles, we have a lot of work to do."

"Yes, yes. And it will be good to get him away from me for awhile." Severus checked the time as the clock chimed.

"It’s dinnertime. You know how my wife gets if I’m late. I’ll tell Draco he has new friend coming tomorrow."

"Good bye, Lucius," Severus answered, and went to cook a small meal. When he finished the beef and potatoes, enough for two, Severus went to find Silas to show him where the kitchen was, then the first floor of the house. The basement, for now, will be off limits, as that was where he brewed most of his potions.

What he found when he got to the boy’s room was Silas sleeping on the bed, curled up with a blue, faded blanket. There were two piles on the floor, one appeared to be of muggles clothes, and the other, papers. Severus picked up the pile of papers and went through them. They looked to be from his muggle school, and Severus had to smirk at the grades. He appeared to understand what the muggles were teaching at least.

He then came to a paper that appeared to be midterm grades. Smart kid. Would do better if he wasn’t sick so often and missed so much school, the bottom comment said. So, he’s sick a lot, Severus thought. We’ll have to bring him for an appointment at St. Mungo’s to have the checked out. Putting the papers down, he walked over to the bed.

"Silas, get up." The boy still didn’t move. He moved to shake him a little, and the boy jerked awake.

"I’ll be good!" the boy said.

"I wouldn’t expect anything else," Severus sneered. "Dinner is ready. Follow me." Harry did so, slowly. He was very weak for not eating for two days, but didn’t want to say anything. It was dinnertime, so he’d be eating soon.

At the table, Severus watched the boy, his brother. He was extremely small for someone who was ten years old. And the clothes, in addition to being muggle, were too big for him. At the moment, the boy was eying the food in front of him, as if he could not believe it was for him.

"Well? Eat!" Severus said, then continued watching him. At the moment, he didn’t appear spoiled. Severus just hoped it stayed that way. "After dinner, we will be going to Hogsmede to buy to some clothes and additional items that you may need. When is the last time you have been to a healer?"

"A healer?" the boy asked. "What’s . . . you mean a doctor?" Severus nodded. "I don’t think I’ve ever been to a doctor. Uncle Vernon said I wasn’t worth it." Harry hinted, hoping that his brother wouldn’t think that he was complaining. This was his brother. He was supposed to care, right?

"The muggle said that, did he? And why was that?" sneered Severus, though not at the boy.

"What’s a muggle?" Harry asked, figuring now that he wouldn’t get in trouble for asking questions. He briefly thought that he’d pay for it later, but he didn’t care. He had to know how his brother was going to treat him. Severus sighed.

"A muggle is a non-magical person . . ."

"Non magical? Magic doesn’t exist! Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon said so!"

"Stupid muggles," Severus said under his breath. "I don’t want to hear you calling them aunt and uncle. They are not your family. And magic does exist. You are a wizard, Silas."

"A wizard? Me? But . . . I can’t be a wizard. I’m Harry. Just . . . Harry."

"Your name is Silas, and you will introduce yourself as such. And you are a wizard, as I am. Your mother was a witch."

"And dad was a . . . muggle?"

"Correct. But don’t say dad, say Father. Dad is too informal." Harry tried to process this information. He was learning way too much for his tired mind. "Are you finished eating?" Harry nodded, looking down at his empty plate. "Good, we will go then."

"How are we getting there?" Harry asked, feeling better now that he had eaten.

"By the floo. Since it is your first time, I will take you with me. Once you turn eleven, I expect you to be able to travel by floo by yourself."

"What is the floo?" Harry asked, and Severus sighed. He sounded annoyed, but he kept on answering, so Harry kept on asking.

"Fireplace," answered Severus. The older wizard threw something into the fireplace and said "Three Broomsticks!" He then took Harry by the hand and dragged him into the green fire.

"I didn’t like that," Harry said, but Severus didn’t answer. Making their way through the crowd and out the door took some work, but they finally made it. What Harry saw outside excited him. "Wow," he said.

"Come. We are here to get you some clothes, and a desk. Is there anything else you would like?"

"Er . . . maybe some books?" Harry asked. He liked reading, but he never could at the Dursley’s, unless it was schoolwork. Severus nodded, so Harry assumed it was okay.

Inside a store that Harry wasn’t able to catch the name of, he followed Severus to a lady in the boy’s clothes area.

"We are in need of clothes for Silas here. Ten robes, two black, and the rest of his color choice. Two pairs of shoes, and whatever undergarments he might need. Also, four cloaks: one summer, one for fall, and two for winter, all black."

"Any muggles clothes?" the girl asked, and Severus glared at her. Although he hated muggle clothes, even Lucius had then incase they needed to go into the muggle world.

"Two pairs of black slacks, five dress shirts of his color choice, and . . . two T-shirts. No jeans." The girl nodded, writing the request down. "I will be back in an hour."

"We will be done by then," the girl said, then Severus left. The girl then turned to Harry.

"Hi, Silas, I’m Gina. How do you know Professor Snape?" she asked. Professor? Harry wondered, and figured it must be his brother.

"He’s my brother," Harry answered, not knowing if he liked being called Silas. It’s not like I have any choice, he thought.

"Brother? Wow. Well, let’s get you these clothes before he gets back."

At the end of the hour, Harry had chosen two black, two green, two blue, two gray, and two brown robes, one dress shirt of each color, one black and one green T-shirt, and two pairs of black shoes, in addition to two pairs of pants and lots of under clothing. The girl, Gina, had him dress in his new clothes, and Harry chose a black robe over pants and a green dress shirt. He wanted to look good for his brother. After all, the man was buying him all of it. Harry was glad to have clothes that actually fit, as weird as robes were.

A few minutes after Harry finished dressing, Severus came in carrying nothing, which Harry found weird since he said he was going to buy stuff. After Severus looked over him approvingly, Harry smiled. No one ever approved of him before, and it felt good. Severus went to pay the bill, and then they left the store.

"Where are we going now?" Harry asked, running at times to keep up with Severus.

"St. Mungo’s."

"Where?"

"It’s a magical hospital. As you have never been to a healer, or a doctor as muggles call them, you are going to have a check up to make sure you are healthy."

"But I’ve never been sick. That I can remember, anyway."

"Never?" Severus asked, masking his confusion. "But your grade report said you missed a lot of school because you were sick," he said, and Harry looked down at the street, blushing.

"Well, that’s just what Au – what Petunia said when they didn’t want me to go to school. Usually when something weird happens, I get blamed, so they make me stay in my cupboard without leaving, except to go to the bathroom . . ."

"Cupboard?" Severus repeated, not knowing if he wanted to know.

"Yeah. They, er . . . my room was the cupboard under the stairs. They didn’t think I was worth anything more," Harry answered, and Severus looked at him sideways.

"Did they feed you?"

"Yeah," Harry answered. "Not as much as I would like, but I usually got to eat everyday."

"No wonder you’re so small," Severus mumbled, loud enough for Harry to hear, but Harry didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say to that.

Entering the hospital, Harry followed Severus to the front desk. The man behind the desk looked up from the papers he was looking at.

"This boy needs a check up. I have reason to believe that he is malnourished, and he has never been to a healer before," Severus said.

"Name of the boy?"

"Silas Prince."

"Muggleborn?"

"No. But he was raised by muggles."

"Ah. That would explain that," the man said, pointing at Harry, who was looking around with awe in his eyes.

"Yes, I suppose it would," sneered Severus.

"Alright, second floor. Healer Jordon is ready for you." Severus nodded, took Harry by the hand and took the stairs up to the second floor. Jordon was waiting for them near the door.

"Professor Snape. How are you? And who is this boy?" the man asked.

"I am as good as I will be. This boy is Silas. Earlier today I gained guardianship over him, and it has come to my attention that he was not well treated for by the muggles that were taking care of him."

"Silias . . . he looks like Harry Potter!" the man said, looking at Harry’s forehead, which was covered with the fringe.

"Silias Prince is his legal name. Now, check him over. I don’t wish to stay here all night."

"Of course, of course," Jordon said, a little confused. He lead Severus and Harry to a room, and Jordon lifted Harry up to a high table. After a few minutes, Jordon was looking at Harry, shaking his head.

"Silas, how much did the muggles feed you? Actually, how often did you eat?"

"Well," Harry answered, "I usually ate everyday. Sometimes I would get in trouble, so I wouldn’t get to eat that day."

"And what did they give you?"

"Er . . . usually bread and cheese. Sometimes I would get some fruit and vegetables if they were old . . ."

"I see," Jordon replied. "Professor, you are correct in your assumptions that he is malnourished. How old is he?"

"Ten. Soon to be eleven."

"He is the size of a child turning nine, not eleven. I am prescribing some potions that I want him to take everyday. Since you are a potions master, I assume you will make them yourself?"

"Most likely," Severus answered, sneering slightly as the man wrote something down. He then handed Severus the parchment.

"You will be billed, so you are free to leave. Nice to meet you, Silas. Excited for Hogwarts?"

"Er . . ." Harry answered, not knowing what Hogwarts was.

"Of course you are, who isn’t?" the man said, and Severus and Harry left.

"What’s Hogwarts?" Harry asked once they were outside again.

"Hogwarts is a school of witchcraft and wizardry. You will be going there starting September."

"Really? I get to learn how to be a wizard?"

"You are a wizard, are you not?" Severus asked, annoyance in his voice, so Harry stayed quiet for awhile. They flooed back to Severus’ house, much to Harry’s displeasure. Back at the house, Severus led Harry to his room, then took three parcels out of his robes. He then unshrunk them, and Harry watched in awe as they grew larger. He had wondered what Severus did with the clothes he bought . . .

"All of this is your’s," Severus said. "I expect everything to be put away by the time I come back, which will be in about an hour. I will be brewing your potions in the basement. You are not to go into the basement until I bring you down there."

"Okay," Harry said, looking wide-eyed at the two boxes and desk that had just been unshrunk. It was all for him!

------------------------------------

The next afternoon, Harry had a full stomach and a bad taste in his mouth from the three potions he had to take, but he was also excited. In half an hour, he will be making a friend! His first friend ever.

Right now, though, he was interested in the potions that he was forced to taste.

"So, why do they have to taste so bad?"

"Because making them taste differently would be difficult. Not to mention more expensive."

"Why would it be more difficult? Couldn’t you just . . . add flavoring or something?"

"No. You have to be careful what you add to a potion, because if you add the wrong thing, it could react and change the effects of the potions, or it could cause an explosion."

"Oh, so . . ."

"Later, Silas. As much as I would love to teach you potions, it might be best to start at the beginning. If you are ready, we will be going."

"But it’s early . . ."

"I said about two. I did not say at two exactly."

"How will we be getting there?" Harry asked.

"You ask a lot of questions, Silas," Severus stated, and Harry looked down, embarrassed.

"Just one more. What am I supposed to call you?"

"What?" Severus asked, slightly confused.

"Well, you are older than me, so usually I would call you sir, but you are also my brother . . ."

"Severus is fine. In class during the school year, or around others at school, you will call me Professor Snape," Severus said, briefly wondering why he was allowing the boy to call him by his first name.

"Okay, Severus," Harry answered, his mood even brighter than before. "So, what’s his name?" Severus sighed.

"I thought before you only had one more question," he said flatly. "His name is Draco Malfoy. You will call his parents Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. They are properly bred purebloods, so act polite."

"Purebloods?"

"I’ll explain later, if Draco doesn't. One more thing, I am Draco’s godfather."

"Oh," Harry said. "I don’t have a godfather, do I?" Harry asked.

"No," answered Severus shortly, then pulled the boy into the floo with him. Draco was waiting for them when they arrived.

"Hello, Uncle Severus!" Draco said with a smile. "And you must be Silas Prince. I’m Draco Malfoy, pleasure to meet you!" he said, holding out his hand. Harry took it and smiled.

"Nice to meet you too. Severus said you are the same age as me?"

"Well, I’m eleven already, so I already got my Hogwarts letter. I turned eleven a few weeks ago. When’s your birthday?"

"July 31st," answered Harry.

"That’s soon! I’m invited to your party, I hope?"

"Party?" Harry asked. "I’ve never had a party before . . ."

"Well, then," Lucius said, walking into the room. "We’ll have to make sure Severus gives you one. Draco, why don’t you go take Silas to your room or the game room." At that, Draco nearly dragged Harry out of the room.

"So, I assume you wanted to talk to me?" Lucius asked Severus.

"Yes, of course. A party, Lucius?"

"A child needs a party. Besides, by inviting the children of his soon-to-be classmates, he’ll be more comfortable starting school. Do you have any idea what house he will be in?"

"From what I know of him, Slytherin or Ravenclaw. He appears to like learning, and my family has all been in Ravenclaw or Slytherin."

"Good, good. If you wish, I can contact some parents of children his age who will most likely be in those houses. I assume you would like the party to be on his birthday?"

"If he must have one," Severus sighed, feeling slightly out of control. "About two, I suppose."

"Good, good," Lucius said again, and Severus glared at the older wizard.

"I wish to speak with you are Narcissa about something, though. As of yet, Silas has no Godparents . . ." Severus didn’t even have to finish.

"Narcissa is in the library, currently. I’m sure she’d love to be a Godmother," Lucius said, leading Severus to the library.

Harry, or Silas, as Severus told him he was supposed to introduce himself as, stood outside the door, very nervous. Severus had just told him that the Malfoy’s have agreed to be his Godparents. This excited him greatly, especially since he and Draco got along. But now, Harry didn’t know exactly what to expect. What did Godparents do, exactly?

Gathering up the little courage he had at the moment, Harry knocked and entered the room when he heard a voice from inside beckon him. Waiting for him were, he assumed, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.

"Hello," Harry answered quietly from the door.

"Silas! Come in, and shut the door behind you," Mr. Malfoy said. Harry shut the door and went to stand in front of the two adults. By habit, he kept out of reach of the two. "I assume that Severus told you the reason for this visit?" Harry nodded, and blushed slightly when Mr. Malfoy looked him over. "You are short for a ten-year-old boy. And way too skinny, but Severus will take care of that. Posture needs work, but you fix up well. Do you always plan on wearing muggle clothes under your robes?"

"Er . . ." Harry said, not knowing how to answer. "I guess. What else would you wear?"

"Your normal under garments, of course," answered Mrs. Malfoy. "It is sad that you were raised by muggles. Those muggles, especially, from what I’ve heard. Tell me, Silas, how are you liking it with your brother?"

"It’s good," Harry answered. "He got me a lot of stuff, and he said I get to eat at every meal. And I get my own room!"

"Good," she nodded.

"I assume Severus told you that we agreed to be your Godparents?" Mr. Malfoy asked, and Harry nodded quickly.

"Yes, Thank you! I’ve never had Godparents before!" Harry answered, and Mr. Malfoy brushed it off.

"You will call me Uncle Lucius, and your godmother Aunt Narcissa. Or sir and ma’am."

"Aunt Cissy at home," Aunt Cissy interrupted, giving her husband a sideways glance. "I do prefer Cissy when it is not necessary to be so formal." She smiled at Harry, who appeared to be beaming with joy.

"Thank you!" replied Harry, who felt like jumping up and down, but decided against it. The Dursley’s never liked it when he showed emotion, and he didn’t want to upset his new Godparents.

"Of course, Silas. Sit, please," Mrs-Aunt Cissy said, and Harry obeyed, sitting down on a very comfy chair across from them. "Tell us a little about yourself. What do you like to do?"

"Well," Harry said. "I like to read. I really don’t know what else. The Dursley’s didn’t really let me do anything else . . ."

"Those were the muggles?" Uncle Lucius asked, and Harry nodded. "Why would they not?"

"I don’t know," Harry admitted. "They didn’t like me. They always called me a freak, and said how stupid, and drunk my parents were to die in a car accident . . ."

"A car accident? You mean the Potter’s?" Aunt Cissy asked, and Harry nodded once again. "Silas, the Potter’s didn’t die in a car accident. Is that they told you?"

"Er . . . yeah. The-they lied to me?"

"Does that surprise you?" Uncle Lucius asked, and Harry thought about it.

"No, not really. They were never nice to me," Harry realized. "H-how did they die?" Harry’s Godparents were silent for a few seconds.

"I don’t think we are the best people to tell you that, Silas," his Godmother said. "Talk to your brother. He’ll explain." Harry nodded, confused. If the Potter’s didn’t die in a car accident, how did they die? "If you didn’t know about the Potter’s, I assume you don’t know about being the Boy Who Lived."

"Boy Who Lived?" Harry wondered out loud, even more confused.

"I suppose not. Silas, go and find Draco. I am sure he is anxiously waiting for you." Harry didn’t move at first. "Move along." Harry got up and left the room, closing the door behind himself. Waiting outside the room was Draco.

"Well?" the eleven-year-old asked.

"Well, what?"

"What did they say?"

"They just wanted to ask about me," replied Harry.

"So, they are your Godparents?"

"Yeah," Harry said, a huge grin covering his face.

"Wicked. That makes us . . . what? Brothers or something?" Harry thought about it.

"Yeah, I guess it does, kind of. They are kind of my parents. But wouldn’t that also make me kind of your uncle? Because my brother is your Godfather."

"Hmph! You don’t have to go into that much detail," Draco said. "Have you ever flown?"

"Flown? As in fly? People can’t fly, Draco," Harry said.

"No! On a broom. What have those muggles done to you? I have a lot to teach you," said the blonde, shaking his head. "Come on!"

Harry followed Draco through the house (it was so big that Harry felt he would never be able to find his way around without Draco’s help) to an outside shed. Inside the shed, Harry stared around in awe. There were so many brooms, balls, bikes (although why there were bikes when Draco said he didn’t like muggle stuff was beyond Harry), and so much other stuff which Harry didn’t know what they were. Draco picked up two of the nearest brooms and ran outside once again.

"How does it fly?" Harry asked, taking the broom that Draco handed him.

"Magic," Draco answered, rolling his eyes.

"I figured that," Harry said. "I mean . . . it doesn’t seem natural to fly."

"It’s not that hard," Draco said, getting on his broom. "To make it hover, say ‘up’. Then get on, and push off. Easy as that!"

"Okay," Harry answered slowly. "If you say so." He looked reluctantly at the broom in his hand, then dropped it to the ground to do as Draco said.

Severus sat across from Lucius and Narcissa, drinking tea. Narcissa had just finished planning out Silas’ birthday party, much to his disgust. Just what he needed, a bunch of ten and eleven-year-old running around his house. Summer was to get away from the students.

He had to admit, though, that the more friends that Silas had, the less time the boy would spend bugging him. As much as he didn’t mind teaching, Severus disliked children. So far, except for the boy’s constant string of questions, Silas had been behaving himself. He just hoped that wouldn’t change when he becomes more comfortable with the situation.

Truthfully, Severus wasn’t sure why he took the boy in. He wasn’t meant to raise kids. Exactly why he never got married. What made him mad, though, was that his Mother never told him he had a brother. He understood the need for the secrecy: if his father knew, he would surely have found a way to kill Silas, but it made him mad that, for years after his death, she never once mentioned the boy. At least, it would have prepared him for what was happening now.

The boy seemed interested in potions; that much Severus was happy about. Perhaps if he taught the boy during the summer, there would be one last dunderhead in the first year. Maybe get in far enough in the class to move him up a year, and have him as an apprentice . . .

Severus shook his head. He didn’t need to have the boy around for longer then necessary. It was bad enough agreed to this.

"When are you going to the ministry to switch over the guardianship?" Lucius asked.

"All I have to do is sign the papers," Severus answered. "I’ll add you two before I do so."

"You don’t plan on changing your mind, do you Severus? The boy would be devastated. And he can’t go back to those wretched muggles. Growing up with regular muggles would be bad enough but from what you and Silas said about them, they seem terrible."

"No, I don’t plan on changing my mind," Severus said hesitantly. "Mother wished me to take him in, so I am doing so. And muggles would be the last place I would send him if I didn’t."

"Do Draco and Silas seem to be getting along?" Narcissa asked.

"From what it appears, yes. I do believe Draco is teaching him to fly at the moment."

"I do hope they don’t get hurt, especially if it’s his first time flying. You made sure the House Elves were watching them?"

"There was one . . . Dobby, I believe his name is."

"Ah, yes. Dobby. He does like the children. They’ll be fine," Lucius told Narcissa, brushing it off. "Have you heard from the Headmaster yet?"

"How do you mean?" Severus asked.

"You recently found out that Harry Potter is your brother, and he is currently living with you. If I remember correctly, it was the old man himself who placed the boy with those muggles. He probably has kept close watch on anyone who goes near there. I would expect to hear from him soon."

"Yes, I suppose so. Have you heard from him recently?"

"No, he stopped checking in with me about three years ago. He never did trust me to the extent he trusts you."

"Yes, well, you are not under his nose for ten months out of the year. And I still haven’t gotten the Defense job."

"I don’t understand why you wish for that job. You enjoy potions," Narcissa commented.

"Yes, but the students are incompetent. I don’t mind teaching the N.E.W.T. classes, but I cannot stand the younger years."

"I don’t understand how you can handle teaching at all," said Lucius. "I much rather run the business."

"Speaking of your business, how is it going?"

"Very good. Your newest headache salve is selling well, along with your other potions. I must say, your potions sell better than the ones that I employ people to make. You could have a very good job if you work for me."

"I prefer freelance potions work. It allows me more time of my own," Severus said flatly. Lucius had been trying to get Severus to work for him for years, often to the point it got annoying.

"Of course," Lucius answered with a smirk.

"Are you sure you have never flown before, Silas?" Draco asked.

"I think I would know if I had," Harry said back.

"Well, you are good. Very good, in fact. Not better than me, of course," Draco said, and Harry rolled his eyes, landing a little too hard on the ground.

"Mr. Silas!" the House Elf called, and Harry turned to stare at it.

"What is that?" Harry asked Draco.

"A House Elf! You didn’t even know that?"

"No," Harry said, blushing slightly.

"I guess muggles don’t have house elves, do they? How did they get anything cleaned?"

"They made me clean it," Harry mumbled, but then remember that the House Elf was calling him. "What?"

"Mr. Snape wants Silas sir to comes in! Yous be leaving now!"

"Already?" Draco asked, and the House Elf, Dobby, nodded.

"Yes, young master. Right aways!" the elf answered, and Draco huffed.

"Oh, well. Hopefully you can come over again soon." Draco looked over Harry. "You know, I think you look a little different than when you first got here. Your hair is different. Not so all over the place. And your eyes are dark now!"

"What?" Harry asked surprised, starting to walk toward the house. He didn’t want his brother to get mad at him, after all. "Oh, yeah. Severus said that the charms that my mother put on me would wear off in a week. I wonder what I really look like?"

"Probably like Uncle Severus. Or close to it. He is your brother, after all, and I think your eyes are the same color as him."

"Really?" Harry asked, and Draco nodded.

"What took you so long?" Severus asked from the door, startling Harry.

"Sorry," Harry answered, looking down at the ground.

"We were just talking about how Harry looks different than before, Uncle Severus," Draco said, and Severus looked closely over his newly found brother. Indeed, the boy looked slightly different, but not much. He wished the changes would hurry up. The sooner he looked his true self, the sooner he wouldn’t look like Potter.

"Draco," Severus started. "Your parents wish to speak with you. They are in the drawing room."

"Okay," Draco answered, then turned to Harry. "Bye, Silas. Next time you come over, I’ll teach you about quidditch," he said, making Harry laugh. Almost the entire time on the brooms, Draco was talking about quidditch, which, Harry had to agree, he didn’t understand one bit yet.

"Fine," Harry said when he stopped giggling.

"Come, Silas. Once we get back, I will be making dinner."

Back through the floo, Harry decided he’ll never get used to it. Waiting for them when they arrived was an old man with a long beard and purple robes.

"Headmaster," Severus greeted flatly. "Silas, why don’t you go to your room. I will call you down for dinner." Harry nodded, and opened the door to the stairs. Instead of going up the stairs immediately, though, he closed the door and listened.

"I have heard rather interesting news at the Ministry today. It turns out that you have a brother?"

"Yes. I only just found out about it yesterday. My mother, seemingly, didn’t trust me enough with that information."

"And that brother happens to be Harry Potter?"

"Unfortunately," sneered Severs. "Why?"

"Just an old man wondering. I talked to the Dursley’s, and they said you took him without their agreement?"

"The muggles you left him with neglected him, Headmaster," Severus snapped. "And with no blood connection, there are no wards."

"Neglected?" Dumbledore asked. "I highly doubt . . ."

"The healer we saw said he was malnourished, among other things."

"I will have it looked into," Dumbledore said sadly. "May I speak with Harry?"

"His name is Silas, and I wish you to use it. Since it is his legal name, he will be using it from now on." Harry took this as his clue to finally go up to his room. If that old man, the headmaster, was going to go up to his room, he didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping.

Of course, by the time he made it to his room, Severus called.

"Silas, would you come down here please?" Harry knew that dinner couldn’t be ready already, so he assumed that the old man wasn’t coming up to his room to speak with him. Grudgingly, Harry went back down. If this man was the one who left him with the Dursley’s, he wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to him.

"Silas," Severus said flatly once Harry got downstairs. "Headmaster Dumbledore wishes to speak with you. He is in the living room." Severus then, very oddly, knelt down and looked Harry in the eye. "If he makes you uncomfortable, come to me. Also, don’t look him in the eye for a long period of time. I will explain why later. If you don’t want to answer his questions, tell him so. You are not obligated to tell him anything. All right?" Harry nodded. He hadn’t seen this side of Severus yet, and he had to admit – it was comforting. Before Harry could say anything, though, Severus got up and went into the kitchen. Harry reluctantly went into the living room.

"Hello, Harry. It’s nice to meet you," the old man said, holding out his hand for a shake. Harry took it, but after that, quickly sat down.

"My name is Silas, now," he corrected. He wasn’t sure yet how well he liked the name . . . he’d always been Harry before, but he had to get used to Silas, so he might as well use it instead of Harry.

"Of course, my boy. Do you like it here with your brother?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry nodded his head hard.

"It’s a lot better than the Dursley’s," Harry said, making sure to emphasis the ‘a lot’ part. He wanted to let the old man know that he wasn’t happy at the Dursley’s. "So, you left me there?" he asked.

"How did you know that?" the old man asked, looking amused.

"Er . . . I . . . overhead," Harry answered sheepishly.

"I see. Yes, I did. If I had known that they would neglect you, I would not have. Let’s move to a more cheerful topic, hmm? Are you excited for Hogwarts?"

"I guess. Draco is, I know. I really don’t know much about it."

"Ah. More for the mystery, then, correct?"

"Severus called you Headmaster, right? Are you the Headmaster for Hogwarts?"

"Right you are . . . Silas. Right you are. This Draco . . . is that Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes, he’s my friend," Harry answered shortly, but didn’t say anything more on the subject. He had a bad feeling about what direction that conversation would take place. Deciding, although the headmaster seemed nice, that he didn’t want talk to him anymore, Harry faked a yawn. "I’m tired. I was flying with Draco almost all afternoon."

"Have you? Do you like flying?"

"Very much," Harry answered. "Maybe I’ll lay down some before I eat. Severus won’t be happy if I fall asleep when eating, ‘cause he says I need to eat more."

"That sounds like a very good idea. I’ll go tell Severus I am leaving, and you can go off to your room. Good bye, Silas."

"Good bye, sir," Harry answered, then immediately went upstairs. Decidedly not tired, Harry went to his bookshelf. Severus had bought him a lot of books. Mostly, they were on subjects like potions and charms, but there were a few storybooks, and even some on wizarding culture. Knowing Severus liked potions, Harry took a book called Beginning Potions Theory and sat down on his bed.

The book turned out to be more interesting than it sounded. Harry found it fascinating that you could put two entirely different things together, and come up with something useful.

Take a basic cleaning potion. The common ingredients of dilute toad poison (usually 6.4%) and the juices from a camilda plant, when combined with four parts toad poison (at 6.4%) and three part camilda juice in one part distilled water, will reorganize itself.

The book went on to explain how and why certain ingredients will combine, and why some will not, and why a person should never mix together certain ingredients. Some of it confused Harry slightly, namely, the math part of it, but he figured he could ask Severus about it later. After all, the man did say he wouldn’t mind teaching him potions.

Just as Harry was getting tired of reading, Severus came into the room, knocking first. Harry left the door open, so it didn’t surprise him.

"The headmaster said you were taking a nap?"

"I didn’t want to talk to him anymore," Harry said, hoping he wouldn’t get in trouble for lying. He rarely lied, but when he did, he thought he had good reasons.

"Did he make you uncomfortable?" Severus asked.

"No, not really. Just . . . he left me with the Dursley’s. Without checking up on me!" Severus nodded, not bothering to ask how Harry knew that, then he noticed the potions book in Harry’s hand.

"Reading some?" he asked the young boy.

"Yeah. I think I get most of it, but I don’t understand the math," Harry admitted.

"It’s called Arithmancy in the wizarding world," Severus answered, glad that the first book the boy picked up with a book on potions theory. Already, he’d know things some of his fourth years didn’t know. Unfortunately, the school board didn’t approve of teaching advanced theory before a student’s fifth year, and Severus felt that his students would learn better if theory was taught first. More than ten years as the school’s Potions Master, and he still didn’t have much control over his job.

"Can you teach me?" Harry asked, bringing Severus out of his thoughts.

"Later," Severus said. "Right now, it’s time to eat."

"Okay. Severus?"

"Yes?" he sighed.

"Uncle Lucius and Aunt Cissy called me the Boy Who Lived. Why? And they said that the Potter’s didn’t die in a car accident. How did they die, then?" Harry asked quickly, and Severus sighed again.

"I was hoping to go over this later, but I suppose now is an okay time."

"If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to," Harry said.

"Of course I will," Severus said flatly, trying to figure out how to start. "Although you might not want to hear it. The Potter’s will killed by a dark wizard, one who wanted to kill you. He killed your parents, then tried to kill you. No one before you survived that curse. No one after you, also."

"Is that how I got my scar?" Harry asked, rubbing his hand over the lightning shape.

"Yes."

"So . . . what happened to this dark wizard?"

"He disappeared. Most believe he was killed."

"But he might not be?" Harry asked, kind of scared.

"His body was never found," Severus said flatly, as if it said everything. Harry was quiet for a few minutes before speaking up again.

"Why did he want to kill me?" Harry asked, then looked at his lab when Severus turned to look at him.

"A prophecy. One in which I do not know the contents of. I believe that is enough of this conversation. The food will get cold if we do not eat it soon, so come along." Severus said, leaving the room. Harry wanted to know more, but he knew that Severus wouldn’t tell him anything. Harry followed slowly to the kitchen.

But there was a prophecy about him and this Dark Lord? What was it about? What was so important that he tried to kill him as a baby? And was he still out there?

Harry stopped short at the bottom of the stairs. Was this dark lord out there still, planning on killing him? Was Harry safe?

Severus obviously noticed that Harry wasn’t following anymore, because he came back out of the kitchen, crossed his arms and glared at the frozen boy.

"What?" he asked, and Harry looked at him.

"What if he’s still out there planning to kill me?" Harry wondered out loud, and Severus sighed.

"Silas, if he was capable of doing so, he’d have done it already," the man said flatly, then went back into the kitchen. Harry, feeling a little bit better, but not much, followed and sat down at the table, across from Severus.

The food, at the few meals before, looked good. Severus had already filled Harry’s plate with food. It wasn’t like at the Dursley’s, where all the food was put in the middle of the table. Eating quietly, Harry spent the time eating looking at his plate, thinking about this dark lord. Severus must have realized what he was thinking about, because after Harry finished eating, he looked up to find his brother watching him.

"There is no need to fret over it, Silas. I shouldn’t have told you."

"Yeah, but . . ."

"No buts. Now, we need to go over a few things, like rules and chores. I have already gone over most of the rules with you, but there are a few more. If you wish to go outside, make sure you tell me first, but do not leave the yard. There might be a few muggle kids in the neighborhood, and if you wish to find them, tell me where you are going. In that case, you are not to leave this street, in case I need to find you. Understand?" Harry nodded. The Dursley’s never cared if Harry went somewhere if he didn’t have any chores. Harry always had a feeling that they hoped he’d get run over by a car or something.

"You are also not allowed to tell anyone you are a wizard. If anyone asks what school you will be going to, you will answer a boarding school in Scotland, but that is all. Now for chores, each night you will be washing the dishes. You must also keep your room clean at all times. Sometimes I will give you something else, but that will usually be all. Understand?" Severus asked again, and once again Harry nodded. He wanted to say that was an easy amount of chores, but decided against it, unless Severus decided to give him more. "Good. I will show you where all the disk cleaning supplies are."

Harry followed Severus to the other side of the room and listened while he was shown where everything in the kitchen was. When Severus left, he started the dishes. With only two of them, there wasn’t that many dishes for the day, something Harry was grateful for. With the Dursley’s, Vernon and Dudley at so much a day, it took forever to finish the dishes.

After he was finished with the dishes, Harry wanted to go outside. Actually, he wanted to know if there was a park anywhere around. He wanted to swing. The swings were Harry’s favorite; it was something he could do alone, and it was fun. Harry went looking for Severus and found him in the living room reading.

"Is there a park around here?" he asked his older brother, and Severus looked at him over the book.

"Down the street. Be back here before they light the lamps tonight. It will probably be two hours from now."

"Thank you!" Harry said, then turned to find the park.

"Wait!" Severus interrupted. "Take your robe off. When you go outside in this neighborhood, you will wear muggle clothes." Harry nodded, then went up to his room to take off his robe. When he was up there, he decided to put on one of his T-shirts. It was more comfortable.

Outside, Harry didn’t know which way to go. From the point of the street that Severus’ house was on, he couldn’t tell which way the park was. Sighing, Harry decided to take a right.

He reached the end of the street, and with no park in sight, Harry turned around. He was surprised at the length of the street. It was probably four times longer than Privet Drive. Harry finally found the park, and made his way toward the swings, steering clear of the two kids who were playing on the play set.

Harry was wary of meeting the kids from the neighborhood. Before Draco, no one like him because he was a freak. Draco liked, him, but Harry’s brother was his godfather, and he was also a wizard. These kids were probably muggle, so they probably wouldn’t like him. He was glad that the two didn’t notice him and continued playing.

Harry didn’t notice how late it was getting until a man came through the park and began lighting the lights, which he found weird at first. On Privet Drive, the lights came on automatically, and were electric. This man was lighting the candles in the lanterns on each lamppost. He made a note to ask Severus about it when he got home.

Harry suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be back home before they started lighting the lampposts, and he jumped off the swing and ran back to the house as fast as he could, hoping that Severus wouldn’t be mad.

Harry ran into the house, slightly wet. It was just his luck that it starting raining on his way home. Severus was waiting for him in the entrance way as soon as he got there, looking cross, so Harry gently closed the door behind himself and looked down on the ground.

"They currently start lighting the lanterns on this block at eight. It is now eight thirty," Severus said flatly, and Harry blushed slightly. He didn’t realize it was that late. "Now, I could understand ten after, since they lanterns are not lit all at one time, but half an hour late? And you will show me respect by looking at me when I am speaking to you." Harry looked up, tears threatening to leave his eyes and trail down his cheeks. He hadn’t even been living with his brother for two days and he was already messing up. No wonder the Dursleys always called him unlovable.

"I’m sorry," Harry whispered, then looked back down at the floor, embarrassed by the tears now falling.

"As this is your first offense and you are new to the area, I will dismiss it this once. Look at me, Silias," Severus said, his voice no longer as flat as before, and Harry looked up once again. "Did you meet anyone?" Harry was stunned at the sudden change of attitude, but he felt better being asked. No one ever cared if he was happy before.

"No," he answered quietly. "There was two other people at the park, but I didn’t say anything. I just was on the swings."

"You were on the swings for two hours?" Severus asked, surprised. He had never been one much for swings, so being able to spend that amount of time swinging back and forth was beyond him.

"Yeah. Is there something wrong with that?" Harry asked, no longer feeling meek.

"No, there is not. And say, ‘yes’, not ‘yeah’," Severus said offhandedly. Now that everything had been settled, he was at a loss of what to do with the boy. Entertaining a ten year old boy was not something he had to do much before. The few times he took care of Draco, the boy wanted to learn about potions or some other magical topic. He knew Silias was interested, too, but it was getting late in the evening. Speaking of which, he also had no idea what time a ten year old should go to bed. Realizing he didn’t know much about his younger brother other than he liked reading and was neglected by the muggles, Severus led him to the living room.

"What do you liked doing besides reading and swinging?" Severus asked the young boy, and was granted with a surprised look. He supposed that the boy wasn’t asked that very often.

"Er . . . not much, I guess. I wasn’t really allowed to do much more than that," Harry answered, embarrassed. He didn’t like talking about the Dursleys. In fact, he hoped he never had to see or even think about them again. Looked like that wasn’t going to happen.

"Alright, then. What do you like to read?"

"Lots of stuff," Harry answered.

"Stuff," sneered Severus. "We must work on your vocabulary. It is rather . . . limited. What type of material do you prefer to read?" he asked again.

"Well, usually whatever I can get," Harry replied after some contemplation. "The books in my school library are nice. The stuff . . . er . . . books about space and animals I think are my favorite."

"Space? As in astronomy?"

"Yea-er, yes."

"They teach astronomy at Hogwarts."

"Really? What does that have to do with magic?" Harry asked, and Severus sighed.

"Enough. I do not pay much attention to the magic that corresponds to it." Severus, making a last minute decision, beckoned Harry to follow him to the library. "I never understood why I kept these books," he said, looking on a shelve near the back of the room. While Severus was looking for the books, Harry looked around. The room wasn’t very big for a library, but it was the biggest room in the house that Harry had seen so far. There wasn’t much room between the shelves; only enough to comfortably get books down, and the shelves reached to the ceiling. There were numerous footstools around for reaching the higher shelves. There was also a desk in the far corner of the room, hidden from view from the doorway.

Finally, Severus found what he was looking for and took down several books. Double checking they were the correct books, he lead Harry to the desk and set the books down.

"These were a few books my mother insisted I work with before I went to Hogwarts. The first one is on grammar, the second on writing style, and the third on vocabulary, and all have exercises which I expect you to do. I will supply a few muggle notebooks for your use, as I find them easier to use for organization. The fourth is a book on learning Latin. You will also start that." Harry looked at the books, his mouth hanging open.

"I have to finish those this summer?" he asked. He was fine with reading and learning during the summer, but from the looks of those books, he’d be doing nothing but!

"No, you will not have to finish. It took me three years to go through the first three, and an additional two for the Latin." Harry nodded, relieved, and yawned. "These books are now yours. Take them to your room, then it is time for you to go to bed."

"Okay," Harry said slowly.

The next morning, Harry arrived to breakfast late, but Severus didn’t say anything, much to Harry’s relief. At the Dursley’s, if he was late he was always punished, usually by not being allowed to eat. Harry knew that Severus would not refuse him a meal, but he had no idea what type of punishments his brother would give him. And he didn’t want to learn.

"I will be working in the garden and greenhouse today," Severus said, not looking up from his paper. After Harry looked up, Severus put the paper aside. "All the potion ingredients that I can grow myself are in either of the two places. I am not requiring you to join me, but it would give you a head start in Herbology."

"I gardened some at the Dursley’s," Harry said. "Au-Petunia taught me how to do it so she wouldn’t always have to." Severus nodded, but sighed internally. It seemed like the boy found any opportunity he could to talk about the muggles, which was excessively annoying. He made a note to ask Lucius or the headmaster about it.

Although Dumbledore wasn’t Severus’ favorite person, he did understand some things that Severus didn’t, and if you were willing to listen to his round about way of talking, there was often good advice there.

"Then I’m assuming you wish to help?" Severus asked for clarification.

"Yeah," Harry answered slowly. Severus gave him a small glare, and Harry corrected himself. "Yes."

"Good. We will start after breakfast," Severus said. Perhaps something good will come out of having a younger brother, he thought. If he does some of my work, I will have more time on my hands.

Harry looked at the food on his plate. Like before, there was a lot on it, and once again, he felt as if he couldn’t finish it. He took a few bites of the scrambled eggs and one sausage link before he felt he couldn’t eat anything more, so instead of eating, he drank the juice in front of him (Harry wasn’t entirely sure what the juice was, but he liked it) and pushed around the food on his plate. He didn’t notice that Severus was watching him.

"Are you not hungry?" the potions master asked, and Harry shook his head. "Your stomach will not grow if you do not eat more than you think you are capable of. You should have no worries about being ill, the potions you are taking will cover that. Eat half of the eggs and one more sausage link."

Ten minutes later, Harry feeling too full to be comfortable, they were headed outside. After visiting a tool shed, Severus set Harry to weed the garden, making sure nothing he pulled was something useful, then went on his own way to check the status of each plant.

Harry set himself to the familiar rhythm of pulling weeds: Pull (making sure you have the root), put in bucket, pull, put in bucket. The situation wasn’t much different that at the Durlsey’s, only that the garden was much bigger and he had someone helping him. He was about to pull another weed when a movement caught his eye.

"Annoying, annoying," Harry heard a voice. "Wake me up, always waking me up."

"Who are you?" Harry asked in the direction of the voice. A snake came out from behind the plants.

"A Speaker? I have only heard of a human speaker before."

"You . . . you can understand me?" he asked, surprised.

"You can understand me, so I can understand you, human," the snake said, irritated.

"I guess," replied Harry, thinking about it. "But just because I can understand you, doesn’t mean you can understand me. I mean, what if I can understand your language, but I’m not speaking it, and you can understand mine?"

"Humans," hissed the snake, sounding irritated. "They don’t understand anything." Harry was about to protest when Severus scared him by sneaking up from behind.

"You are talking to the snake?" his brother wondered.

"Er . . . yea-yes. Why . . . is that a bad thing?" Harry asked, nervous. He wasn’t trying to talk to the snake. It just . . . happened.

"A parselmouth," Severus said to himself. "My brother is a parselmouth." Severus shook his head and walked away, ignoring Harry’s question. Harry, feeling as if he did something wrong, pulled another weed from the garden, finishing the area he was working on, then went back inside.

His first thought was to go back to his room, but then he changed his mind, entering the library as he passed. Severus was talking about him being a parselmouth, whatever that was, and he wanted to know what that was.

Not knowing where to start, Harry wandered around looking over the books. After a few minutes, he noticed that the books were organized by subject. What Harry wanted was some sort of dictionary on magical terms. There had to be one somewhere in all these books.

In the history section, Harry’s eyes stopped on a book called Magical Abilities. Harry briefly wondered why such a book was in the history section, but when he picked it up, he saw that it did look like a history book. Thankful it was set up in alphabetical order, he turned to the P’s and flipped through. Parselmouth was on the third page, and such a small bit that Harry almost skipped over it.

While Harry read the two paragraphs, Severus walked up behind him. He didn’t know whether to be pleased or disheartened by the fact that his brother was a parselmouth. It was a great ability, but it was thought to be a Dark ability. Therefore, it would have to be kept a secret.

Severus wondered where the ability came from. He knew for a fact that his family line did not have any Parselmouths. The Dark Lord was, though, and that thought made Severus uneasy.

"So, does this mean I’m evil?" Harry asked, bringing Severus out of his thoughts.

"No," he answered sharply. It is believed to be a Dark Ability because it appeared that everyone who had the ability was a Dark Wizard. This was not true. Salzaar Slytherin, the first known parselmouth, was not a Dark Wizard, contrary to popular belief."

"Slytherin? Was that one of the founders?" Harry asked. He skimmed a few pages of Hogwarts: A History, but didn’t read it in depth.

"Yes," Severus answered. "What was the snake talking about?"

"It was annoyed that I woke it up. I don’t think he likes humans very much. Do you have any more books on parselmouths and Slytherin?"

"Not on parselmouths. Those are hard to come by, but I have many on Slytherin. Some rare ones too; ones that you cannot buy easily. I don’t know where they came from since they have been in my family for generations," Severus said, starting to look for certain books. "Here is two good books. They are old, so be very careful with them. I am going to finish with the garden and greenhouse, then . . . perhaps I could teach you some potions?"

"Could I brew one?" Harry asked, his eyes lighting up.

"A simple one, yes. If you wish, look for an easy one you wish to brew." At that, Severus left the library, and Harry picked up the first book. It was on the legends and myths that surround Salzaar Slytherin and tried to prove the either right or wrong. Not in the mood to start from the beginning, Harry opened the book to a random page.

"No. You need to chop it finer," Severus said, irritated. The boy choose a slightly harder potion for his first try, and for the most part, he was doing okay. Severus could tell that he read the book that described the potion, but his experience with potions wasn’t enough to do the potion well. So, at this time, he was regretting his decision on letting Silas make it.

Harry chopped the root more, then gave a questioning look to his older brother. At Severus’ nod, Harry gently put the root into the boiling potion. This was the last step. If it turned a blue color, then it was made correctly. Harry really hoped he made it correctly, because he wanted to impress Severus.

After waiting five minutes, the potion slowly started to turn a blue color. It didn’t quite reach the shade of blue that the picture showed, but it was close. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Severus nod, and a grin unwilling appeared on Harry’s face. He did it right!

"Decent," was all Severus said, but from the short time he was living with the man, he realized that it was as good of a compliment he was going to get.

"Thank you," Harry replied quietly, then turned to look at his messy tabletop.

"But I want you to study the different chopping, cutting, and slicing methods more. Sometimes even the slightest difference could mess up the more complicated potions." Harry nodded, just glad that he got it correct and wasn’t going to get yelled at.

"Can I see Draco soon?" Harry asked, starting to clean up the table, and Severus nodded.

"May I, and yes, you may," Severus said, making a quick decision. "For a potion I am making, I need snake skin that was recently shed. Since you are able to speak with snakes, perhaps you could help me find some?"

"Sure, but I don’t know if they’ll talk to me. The last one seemed kinda rude."

"Kind of, not kinda," corrected Severus. "We will go no. The woods that we will be searching in are about a 15 minutes walk from here."

"A woods?" Harry asked.

"Yes," replied the older wizard flatly. "Is that a problem?"

"No, it’s just . . . nothing," Harry replied quickly, not wanting to upset Severus. The potions master didn’t say anything, just glared suspiciously at Harry, then left the room.

Half an hour later, the two were entering the woods, Harry rather reluctantly. He didn’t have a very good history in the woods. Bad things happened there. These are different woods, Harry told himself. And Severus is here. Nothing is going to happen.

"Keep an eye out for snakes and snake skins. I assume you know what snake skin looks like?" Severus asked, and Harry answered with a nod. Severus started walking a fast pace, for Harry at least, off the trail, and Harry tried to follow when Severus turned and shook his head.

"If we split up, we will be able to cover more ground. I would like to be done with this soon, as I have other activities I need to do," Severus said, handing Harry a black, book size bag.

"But . . ."

"Just go. As you are able to talk to snakes, and there are no dangerous animals in these woods, you will be safe. Meet here in an hour." Without waiting for a reply, Severus turned and continued off the trail, leaving Harry.

Harry was pretty sure he wouldn’t get lost. After all, he learned awhile back how to find his way back in a woods. That was a different woods, though, and . . . well, right now, he just hoped nothing bad was going to happen.

Walking along, Harry jumped when the grass near one of the bigger trees moved.

"Hello?" Harry asked, trying to speak in parseltongue. He didn’t know if it worked, though, because it all sounded the same to him.

"Another human," Harry heard something hiss.

"Hello?" Harry asked again. There wasn’t an answer immediately, but the snake did show it’s head. "Hi," Harry continued, almost shyly. He didn’t want this snake to be rude to him like the other snake, so he tried to be as polite as possible.

"Another Speaker . . ." the snake said, almost to himself.

"Another? You mean there is another Speaker around here?" Harry asked the snake, and it gave a quiet hiss.

"Yes. Another Youngling. Younger than you, Speaker."

"Can I meet him? I mean, is the Speaker a him?" he asked with curiosity.

"The young Speaker is a male. If you wish, I will bring you to him. He is scared of other humans, but perhaps because you Speak, he will not be afraid of you."

"Why is he afraid of other humans?" Harry asked, wondering if the young boy ran away, like Harry did when he was younger. It would explain why he was in the woods alone.

"You ask too many questions, young Speaker. Our Younglings do not ask as much," the snake replied, successfully shutting Harry up. I was only asking, thought Harry with a huff. Following the snake at a very slow pace, he made his way even further into the woods.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Severus checked the time with a small charm, very irritated. It was half an hour past the meeting time, and Silas still wasn’t there. The damn boy probably got himself lost, he thought.

"Point me, Silas," Severus said, activating the charm. His wand pointed to the direction opposite that he came from, and he started walking, checking the direction ever so often. Silas is either staying in one place, or continuing along the same direction, he thought when the direction never changed.

After about fifteen minutes of walking, Severus heard some quiet hissing, so he froze and listened. It sounded like a conversation in a similar fashion to when Silas was talking to the garden snake.

"Silas?" he asked aloud, and was surprised to hear a small scream then a panicky cry. Quietly walking forward, Severus spotted his brother with a snake wrapped around his arm (the species was unfamiliar to him), and a small child, he guessed about three years old, clinging to the opposite side from the snake. The boy only cowered more when he look up and saw Severus standing there.

"Silas, what are you doing? Who is that?" he asked flatly.

"You’re scaring him," Silas answered. "He’s scared of humans." Silas, Severus guess, spoke something to the small boy in parseltongue, and the child calmed down slightly. This scene confused Severus until Silas spoke again. "I don’t think he understands English. He won’t respond to it, anyway. I don’t know why he’s here."

"Did you find snake skin?" Severus asked, buying time to think. Silas shook head.

"He brought me here almost right away . . ."

"Who’s he?" Severus wondered, and Harry indicated the snake on his arm.

"Can we bring him home?" Silas asked, and Severus nearly rolled his eyes.

"We cannot leave a small child in the woods," he sneered, and the older child picked up the younger. The snake transferred itself from Silas’s arm to the small boy’s neck, and Severus almost yelled, but decided against it. If the snake lead Silas to the boy, the snake wasn’t going to hurt the boy. "We will contact the headmaster. He will know what to do."

"Dumbledore? But . . . he left me with the Dursley’s. How do you know that he won’t do the same thing to him?"

"I’ll make sure," replied Severus curtly. "Now, come on," Severus said, grabbing Silas’s arm and apparating to an enclosed area immediately outside of his property. This scared the child even more.

Harry watched as Severus stalked into the house leaving him, the boy, and the snake outside.

"What was that?" hissed the snake. Harry shook his head, not able to answer. The word didn’t translate into parseltongue; it just came out in English. Not knowing what else to do, Harry made his way into the house, trying to comfort the hysterical boy at the same time. It was really hard to carry the boy, since Harry was small himself, so he ended up putting him down and leading him by the hand into the house. It was at that moment that Severus came in with Dumbledore, causing the little boy to run and hide under a table. Harry could hear the snake and boy talking, the snake trying to convince the boy to get out from under the table.

"Silas, how good to see you again. How is the young boy?" Dumbledore asked, too cheerful for Harry’s current mood.

"Scared," Harry answered, narrowing his eyes.

"Ah, yes, I’d imagine so. Could you bring him out from under that small table? I’m assuming it would be very uncomfortable."

"What are you going to do with him?" Harry asked, and the old man smiled.

"We are going to try to find any living relatives. If he does not have any, then we will find a family that is willing to love and work with him."

"What if you find family that doesn’t want him? I don’t want him growing up with someone who doesn’t want him."

"We won’t allow that to happen, Silas. I promise," the old man said. Harry narrowed his eyes again, but was inclined to believe the man. He didn’t seem like he was lying, and Severus seemed to trust the man to some point, so there really wasn’t a reason to argue. Carefully, Harry coaxed the young child out from under the table, and sat him down on it to talk to him.

"You are going to have to go with this man," Harry told him, and the boy shook his head. "He won’t hurt you," he said, then turned to Dumbledore. "Will I get to see him again."

"I am sure that whoever is willing to take him in would love for you to visit."

"I will see you again later, I am sure," Harry told the boy. "But they want to find you a good home, okay?"

"You," the boy said.

"I’m sorry, I can’t," he said grimly. "But they will find you someone nice." The boy didn’t answer, just looked down. Harry picked him up and handed him to Dumbledore, somewhat reluctantly. He felt like he was abandoning the boy, even though this wasn’t his choice. Harry knew he had no say in the matter. He knew that Severus wouldn’t take in another kid, especially one that could only speak parseltongue. Harry watched grimly as Dumbledore and Severus talked, and as Dumbledore left the room to take the floo to wherever. Not in the mood to talk, Harry went to his room, locking the door and taking out a book.

Harry sat in the corner of the room sulking, while watching Draco play with his Famous Wizard cards. He hadn’t been in the mood to do anything since Dumbledore came and took the boy away, three days ago. Today, he felt even worse.

“Silas, why don’t you just come a play a game?” Draco asked. “You aren’t still upset about that boy, are you? You didn’t even know him.”

“So?” Harry spat. That was the thing. He didn’t know the boy, but he wanted to. Remembering the way the boy looked at him when Dumbledore took him away, he just wanted to go back in time and refuse to let him go.

“What happened to him, anyway. Did you ever find out?”

“Severus said they found the father. Apparently he didn’t even know he had a kid. He was surprised to learn that he spoke parseltongue, too.”

“So, the father doesn’t speak it?” Draco wondered.

“I don’t know. I asked, but Severus didn’t know either.” Harry refused to look up, his arms now wrapped around his legs, and his head in his knees. It was a very comforting position. “I just want him back,” he said quietly, but Draco heard.

“Maybe you’ll get to see him again. He’ll probably go to Hogwarts eventually. If he can speak parseltongue, then he can do magic!”

“Yeah, but how does that help me? By the time he goes to Hogwarts, I’ll be gone!” Draco shrugged. “It was just a thought. Come on, Silas. Let’s go do something fun. I’m sick of playing by myself.

“Fine,” Harry relented. “What do you want to do?”

“Let’s go fly,” Draco suggested, and it was Harry turn to shrug.

“I guess we can.”

The boys flew until Severus, who was watching them fly for a few minutes, yelled that it was time to go. They left the brooms for a house elf to put away and said goodbye. Draco went off to his room, and Harry flooed (along with Severus) home.

“Are you hungry?” Severus asked, and Harry shook his head.

“You haven’t eaten since breakfast,” accused Severus. “You have to be hungry.” Harry shrugged, earning a glare from his brother for the rude answer. Harry thought that Severus tried to feed him too much, but he didn’t want to say anything in case his brother decided to stop feeding him. He knew it was stupid to think so, but it was something that the Dursleys would do, and Harry just didn’t want to chance it. He had to be careful.

“You need to get used to eating more,” his brother scolded, and Harry sighed inwardly. He heard this almost every day. “You can’t live on the nutrient potion forever. It is not good for you for long time use.”

“Okay, I’ll eat something,” Harry answered. Honestly, he just wasn’t used to people caring if he ate or not, and, although he was glad that Severus did seem to care, it was starting to get annoying.

“I wasn’t going to not let you eat, anyway,” Severus answered. After dinner, they retired to the living room, which made Harry nervous. The only time Severus took Harry aside after a meal was because he wanted to talk to him about something. Harry quickly thought about the day, and remembered nothing that he did wrong.

“Silas, your Godparents are putting on a . . . party in two days, and as much as I loath them, there will be many children your age there. They also wish to show you off, so we will need to get you some dress robes.”

“But I already have a bunch of robes,” Harry said, confused. What was wrong with the ones he already had?

“Everyday robes, yes. Dress robes are for special occasions. I was hoping not to buy you a set for a few years, because you will, hopefully, grow much taller and you wouldn’t be able to wear the robes more than once, but Lucius insists that we be there. Tomorrow, we will have you fit for robes in Diagon Alley.”

“What’s Diagon Alley?” Harry asked. “Is it like Hogsmede?”

“It is not an entire town, if that is what you are asking. It is a street with many shops. I also need to stop in Knockturn Alley for some potion ingredients. I really shouldn’t bring you there, but you will be fine if you do not wander away from me.”

“What’s the difference between Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley?”

“Knockturn Alley shops usually sell things of a more . . . darker nature. Not all, though. One of the Alchemy shops there is the best in the magical world, and the shopkeeper is quite fair if she knows you.”

“Oh,” Harry answered, excited. He was going to get to see more places! And he was going with Severus to pick up Potion supplies, so that would be fun.

“Are . . . you feeling better than you were before?” Severus asked, and Harry nodded. “Good. Sulking does not become you.”

“I just wanted to keep him,” Harry answered with a pout. “He wanted to stay with me. He said so.”

“He is with family now, Silas.”

“Yeah, but what if the father hurts him? I mean, he knocked up some lady . . .”

“Knocked up? Where did you hear that term?” Severus asked sternly, and Harry looked down, embarrassed.

“Dudley,” he answered.

“I do not want you to say that again,” the man ordered, and Harry nodded. “Now, what were you saying?”

“Er . . . what if the father hurts him? What if he doesn’t like that the boy is a parselmouth?”

“The man is probably a parselmouth himself,” Severus said, “though we don’t know for sure. If the mother abandoned a child who could speak parseltongue, it was probably because the kid was a parselmouth. It probably frightened her, and she left him.”

“But . . . that’s mean,” Harry said, for the lack of a better word to call it. “People shouldn’t do that.”

“He’ll be fine, Silas.” Severus said nothing else, he just picked up a book from the side table and handed it to him. “This is a book on proper party etiquette that the Malfoys gave for you to read. Read it.” Harry nodded, taking the book. “Now, go and . . . do whatever. Good night, Silas.”

“Good night,” Harry answered, getting up to leave. He decided that he’ll get the book read tonight. After all, he didn’t want to make his new Godparents upset. They wanted him to read the book, he will. Etiquette wasn’t something he was interested in, though. The Dursleys were always so particular when they had company. Not that Harry ever got to be around when there was company, but he’d listen in from his cupboard.

The next afternoon, Harry dressed in plain black robes, on Severus’ suggestion, then went downstairs to where Severus was waiting. Harry looked in the mirror as he passed it. He did look a lot like Severus, now that the charms had fully worn off. His hair was darker and much straighter, and Harry liked that. It was much easier to handle. Harry’s eyes were the exact shade as his brothers, his mouth was a little wider, and his nose was slightly bigger. His lightening scar was still there, though.

Although he was still surprised every time he looked at his reflection, he actually liked how he looked now. It was partially because he looked like someone in his family, and partially just because it felt right. Looking at himself, he knew that was how he was supposed to look.

“If you are done admiring yourself in the mirror, we must go, Silas,” Severus said, and Harry nodded. They were going through the floo again, which he hated. Pretty soon, Severus was going to make him go through it alone, which scared him slightly. Even with his brother, he always felt he would get lost in some other grate.

They flooed into what looked like a pub, but they left immediately. Diagon Alley looked way more fun than Hogsmede. The street was full of people walking along and chatting, going in and out of stores, and there were even some street shows going on at the time. Harry didn’t even realize he stopped to watch them until Severus stood in front of him to block his view.

“Street shows are usually on a few times a year. There will be other times to see them,” Severus said, and Harry had a feeling that his brother didn’t approve of them. “Now, keep with me. Once we get there, you will not leave my side.” Harry nodded again and made sure to walk next to Severus, who wasn’t walking as fast as he usually did.

Soon, they turned off into a small alley, and they were no longer in the bright area of Diagon Alley. Instead, the street was dusty, and about half of the people were wearing hooded cloaks. There were also a few beggars in the street, and Severus whispered in his ear to not look at them. He said he would explain later. Looking forward, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone (he learned a long time ago that it was never a good idea to look someone in the eyes), Harry did his best to take in his surroundings.

He could see why Severus thought that he shouldn’t be here, but Harry decided he didn’t mind it much. Besides, Severus said that the apothecary was one of the best and it was in Knockturn Alley, then there must be other good stores around there, right? Harry figured that he would be visiting Knockturn Alley when he grew up, so he might as well learn about it now.

After walking for about five minutes, they stopped in front of a small shop. The building looked only to be the size of the Dursley’s living room, and Harry thought that it couldn’t be the shop they were going to. When Severus told him it was one of the best shops, he figured it to be big.

When they went in, Harry was in for a surprise. The place wasn’t enormous, but it was definitely too big to fit into the building they just walked into. Looking around with big eyes, Harry noticed a women behind the low counter. She was standing in front of three large cauldrons, staring intently at the center one. Suddenly, a small explosion occurred, and she added some powdered ingredient to it, then shortly after the to outside two after they exploded. Seemingly satisfied, she looked up, seeing Severus (and Harry), and smiled.

“Why, Severus. I wasn’t expecting your for another week, when the Boneroot is ready. What brings you here today?”

“A restock on my supplies,” answered Severus shortly, and he handed her a piece of parchment. “I will, of course, be here for the Boneroot.”

“Of course, of course,” she answered offhandedly. “And who is this? He seems rather . . . eager.”

“This is my brother, Silas.”

“A brother? So, I suppose we will be seeing quite a bit of him here. Hello, child,” the lady said, and Harry narrowed his eyes very slightly. He wasn’t entirely sure if he trusted her, but Severus didn’t seem to see anything wrong, so he nodded.

“Hello,” he answered, trying not to sound shy. That was another lesson he learned: don’t talk to strangers, but if you have to, stand your ground and don’t act shy or nervous.

“Smart boy,” the lady said, giving a sharp nod. “He’ll do well.” Severus didn’t say anything, just glared at the lady. She smiled at him, then went behind a curtain. Harry assumed it was to get the ingredients that Severus needed.

Half an hour later, Severus and Harry were leaving the shop. Severus was able to shrink the ingredients by putting them in a box that was meant to shrink ingredients without ruining them, so they had no visible packages. Their next stop was planned to be Madam Malkin’s for dress robes, so they headed out in the direction of Diagon Alley.

Harry paused in his following of Severus. He knew he should not have in Knockturn Alley, but something called him. Something off to his right. Taking a quick glance at Severus, who noticed that he had stopped, Harry walked toward the pull, right into a shop. Once inside, Harry had a feeling that he had just been tricked. Severus had followed him without stopping, though, so it couldn’t be anything bad.

With a nod from his brother, Harry started looking around. There were pieces of stones and wood with odd symbols on them. For some reason, he wanted them. He had no idea what they were, but he still wanted them.

Deciding to ask Severus about them, he turned to look for him, and found him talking to a lady, dressed in muggle skirts, a loose shirt, and a cloak. To Harry, she looked a lot like a gypsy on the television would. Severus then looked up at Harry and beckoned him to come.

“Silas, I would like you to meet Ramla. She was a friend of our mother’s. She taught our mother the magic of Runes.”

“Runes?” Harry asked, figuring that was what the weird symbols were.

“You mean, you never told him?”

“I met him a very short time ago. I must admit, I forgot,” Severus answered flatly. Ramla gave Severus a stern look, then turned to Harry.

“In some families, Rune magic comes natural to a person,” she said. “Severus, unfortunately, isn’t one of those people, but I know there was a few people from the Prince family where it was. With the way Severus said you were drawn here, it wouldn’t surprise me if you are one of them.”

“But what is Rune magic?”

“Oh, dear, you have a lot to learn, don’t you? Here, let me get you a few things,” she said, walking to a chest and digging around in it. “Here we go,” she said, standing up, holding a few books and a bag of something. “These were your mother’s. She left me to hold them for someone in her family who holds the gift if she died. She only did ever study them while she was here. I suppose that would make these yours.” She handed the books and bag over to Harry, who held them with care. This would be a present from his mother, then! He never knew her, of course, but they still meant something to him. They were the only things of hers he really owned. “I guess she was expecting you to come here some day.”

Harry opened the bag and took out a few of the runes. They felt smooth, and Harry looked at them closely.

“Those are made of Hungarian Horntail bone. I made the specifically for your mother. She was very attached to them, so I do not know if they would work very well with you. Perhaps . . . you would like to buy a set or two?”

“Of course you would try to sell something,” Severus said flatly. “But you may see if there are any sets that you like,” he told Harry. Harry smiled and started looking around at the rune sets around the small room.

It took awhile, but Harry found a wooden set made of Holly that he really liked. They were polished smooth, but they were not stained. Harry loved the feel when he was holding them.

“Ah, a holy wood set. Holy repels evil, you know. I have a feeling that might be telling us something. It could be just a coincidence, of course, but true coincidences are rare occurrences,” Ramla said, startling Harry by standing over his shoulder. “You want these?” Harry nodded, and she took the set, which was laid out on a board. “Choose a bag,” she said, pointing to a basket of different kinds of bags. Harry went through the basket and pulled out a dark green crushed velvet bag and handed it to her. She put the runes in the bag, then handed them back.

“No cost, child. I have a feeling you’ll learn much from these,” she said.

“What?” Harry asked, startled. She was just giving the runes to him? Free? Severus looked just as startled as he was, and Severus never looked startled.

“Since when do you give gifts, Ramla?” his older brother asked, and Ramla shrugged.

“He is the son of my best student. If you were interested in runes, I would have given you a free set, also. Of course, all sets after that, you must pay for,” she said, giving Harry a look. Harry looked at her wide-eyed and nodded.

“Thank you!” he said, before Severus cut in.

“We must be going, Ramla. We must get him dress robes before we head home.”

“Of course, of course,” she said, going into the back of her shop. Severus shook his head as he led Harry out and back onto Diagon Alley.

--------------------------------------

“Do I have to go?” Harry asked, in his green dress robes, which matched his eyes. He was nervous. He had a feeling that something was going to go wrong, and he didn’t want to upset Severus or his God parents.

“There will be plenty of children your age there. You need to make more friends. At least, that’s what Narcissa says.” Harry narrowed his eyes at being called a child. Severus was always saying stuff like that when he was around. He supposed it was true, he was a lot younger than his brother. In fact, he realized he had no idea how old his brother was. Old enough to be a teacher, that was for sure.

Harry didn’t say anything more. He was really nervous about meeting more people. Hopefully, because Draco liked him, others would, too, but he couldn’t help but think that they would think him a freak. They wouldn’t be the first.

He thought he looked weird. Although he knew that robes were the clothing wizards wore, he always felt like he was wearing a dress, even though he always wore normal clothes underneath. He couldn’t help but feel like a freak, like the Dursley’s always called him.

Obviously oblivious to Harry’s discomfort, Severus wrapped him up in a long cloak before dragging him through the floo.

Once they made it to the Malfoy’s, their cloaks were taken by a human servant (the Malfoy’s had three, but Harry had never met any before), and Harry followed closely behind his scowling brother. Outside the room, there were a lot of people in the halls, talking and drinking something out of small, delicate looking glasses. Severus looked like he was looking for something; he assumed that it was for Aunt Cissy and Uncle Lucius.

They found them in a room, sitting and talking to three other people; two men and a woman. Their conversations ended almost immediately as Narcissa saw Severus and Harry.

“Severus, Silas! How good of you to come! Janus, this is my godson, Silas Prince, brother of Severus Snape. You remember Severus, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” the unknown lady in the room said. “Nice to see you, Severus,” he said to his brother. “You were a few years under me in Hogwarts, were you not?”

“Yes,” Severus said, clearly not caring.

“You look like your brother, Silas,” one of the men said.

“Why don’t you two sit down?” Lucius asked, indicating two of the empty seats in the room. Severus sat, and Harry followed shortly.

“Bit of an age difference, huh, Severus?” the other man asked.

“Yes, Alex, it is,” Severus answered. “Silas, this is Alexander Nott, Abras Avery, and Janus Kieli.”

“Hello,” Harry said, trying not to blush, and the adults in the room nodded their acknowledgment, then went on to talk about other things.

“Still working at Hogwarts, Severus?” Avery asked.

“Yes,” Severus said flatly. He only used that tone when he was talking to someone he didn’t want to be talking with, so Harry had a feeling that he didn’t like the man. Harry looked at Lucius, and the amused looked on his face confirmed it. Narcissa must have noticed how bored Harry was, though, because she spoke up.

“Silas, why don’t you go find Draco and the others? I’m sure Draco is wondering where you are.” Harry nodded, and stood up to leave. He looked at Severus and waited for a nod before he left, though. He was so afraid of doing something wrong in front of these people.

Harry, somewhat used to the house, knew where the playroom was, so he went there first, and was disappointed when there were a few younger kids there, but Draco wasn’t. Sighing, Harry decided to look outside. It wasn’t that bad of a day, so they might be playing quidditch or something.

Harry got a little lost getting outside, though. He thought he knew the way; after all, he went back and forth with Draco several times, but the people walking from room to room confused him. He thought he was going around unnoticed until someone put a hand on his shoulder. Startled, he jumped and turned to face the person.

“Are you lost?” he asked.

“I am just looking for Draco,” Harry said, then planned to continue his way to the outside, when he was stopped again.

“I believe the kids are flying outside. I haven’t seen you before. I am Jordus Goyle. And you are?”

“Silas Prince,” Harry answered, almost answering Harry Potter, causing himself to blush. He hadn’t nearly introduced himself as Harry Potter for awhile now, and, even though he hadn’t been Silas Prince for long, it felt weird to think himself as Harry Potter.

“Prince? Was that not the name of Severus’ mother? Are you related to him? You looked like him, enough,” Goyle rambled on, and Harry decided he didn’t like him very much. He wondered how Severus new him, but guessed that Severus didn’t like him very much either. He reminded Harry a little of the Avery man, and he knew Severus didn’t like him.

“Yes, I’m his brother,” Harry answered. “I think Draco is waiting for me,” Harry said quickly, then walked with a fast past through a small crowd of people.

He was lucky he found the stairs just then, which meant he was no longer lost. Quickly, he went out one of the back doors, and ran to the quidditch pitch. Draco must have been watching for him, because he landed his broom right next to him immediately.

“Silas! Grab a broom and come on! We need another player on my team! We’ll do introductions later,” he said, jumping back on his broom and taking off. Harry went to the shed to get a broom, the one he usually used was still in there, probably thanks to Draco. Ready to fly, Harry jumped on the broom and joined the thirteen other kids. They all looked his age, so Harry wondered if they were all going to be in the same year.

Harry looked at everyone on brooms and was instantly confused. Draco explained quidditch to him, and they practiced making goals, but he had never actually been in a game before.

“You’re going to be seeker, Silas! Just watch for the snitch!” Draco yelled from above him, and Harry nodded. He found out last time he was at Draco’s that he was really good at catching the snitch. Every game of Seeker’s quidditch they played, Harry won. They only played a few times, though, because Draco didn’t like losing every game. Although Harry liked Draco a lot, he had to admit that his friend was quite spoiled. He didn’t act as bad as Dudley, but it was still kind of annoying.

Watching for the snitch lazily, Harry watched the players carefully. Seeing how everyone played, he decided he wouldn’t to do well as a beater. He was able to hit the ball well enough, but not very strong, so it often went in an unintended direction. He figured he would be a decent chaser, because he had good aim, and he could catch a ball easily, and he kind of felt envious of the few on the pitch who were flying around quickly, throwing and catching the ball.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the snitch, and he flew after it, now noticing that the opposite seeker had seen it first. Desperate to get to it first, Harry leaned into his broom, making it go as fast as he could. Instead of going for the snitch, though, he aimed for the other seeker. Since Harry knew he wouldn’t be able to reach the snitch before the other seeker, if he made him think that he was going to run into him, the other seeker would stop going after the snitch to get out of the way. Harry just hoped that the guy did move, because he was going toward him . . . very fast. If he didn’t move, Harry didn’t know if he would be able to stop.

Thankfully, the boy looked up quickly, probably to look for Harry, and moved out of the way immediately. Harry, now that the boy was out of the way, tried to slow down to reach the snitch but overshot it, and when he was able to turn around, the snitch was once again missing. Sighing, Harry took a place above the pitch and once again started looking for the snitch, but this time, set his full attention on it. He took a quick glance at the opposite seeker, and saw him glaring. Uncomfortable, Harry turned back to the snitch.

Severus, tired of being around most of the people at the party, decided to go outside for some fresh air. Everyone but Lucius was just irritating him beyond his comfort level, even Narcissa. When Severus was alone with her, she kept asking about little details about her godson, mostly about what he liked, and Severus knew very little of it. He also highly doubted that Silas would know some of the subjects she asked about since he had barely been in the wizarding world.

Outside, after avoiding everyone he absolutely did not want to talk to, Severus saw the kids playing a game of quidditch, and went to see if Silas was with them. He didn’t know why he wanted to see the boy. Besides from being slightly clingy and talked obsessively about the Dursleys, he was pretty much a student to Severus.

That’s not true, he thought to himself. And it wasn’t. Severus would probably never admit it aloud, but he enjoyed the company of his little brother. It was strange to have someone that young not afraid of him, even stranger to have someone that young look up to him.

If he only knew my history, thought Severus. He was hoping that it would never have to be brought up, but he had a feeling it would someday. He just hoped that Silas wouldn’t stop trusting him because of a mistake he made when he was younger.

Closer to the pitch, he saw a flash of gold, then someone dashing toward it. A few seconds later, a boy he recognized as Silas, went after it. Severus watched, and he knew there was no way that Silas would make it in time, especially since the opposite seeker looked to be a Ravenclaw two years older than him; much more experienced at flying.

Silas did the unexpected, then. He changed his direction up by a few degrees, aiming straight for the Ravenclaw, flying faster than he should have. Severus, nervous by what the boy was planning, pulled out his wand and poised for casting a charm to stop an accident. He was just about to cast a cushioning charm between the two when the older boy pulled away. Silas obviously was trying to reach the snitch, but he didn’t stop before the snitch flew off. Releasing the breath the didn’t realize he was holding, Severus conjured a chair to sit on and watch the game, reminding himself to talk to Silas about not doing stunts like that without supervision. Or ever, actually.

The game went smooth after that. Silas did a few tricks to confuse the Ravenclaw, some which worked. Severus had to admit that the boy did have some Slytherin in him, and at that moment, hoped for him to be in Slytherin, if for no other reason than to be on the quidditch team. He was inexperienced, but he had a good eye, and with enough training, he could be one of the best players on the team. Although Slytherin had won the cup for years in a row now, it was always a good thing to ensure it for future years. Silas wouldn’t be able to try out for the team this year, but he would his second year.

Finally, after two hours, Silas finally caught the snitch. The snitch had flown by his head, and it would have been an easy catch. Or, at least, it seemed so. Severus hadn’t played any quidditch since the summer after his fourth year, although he knew the game quite well. When Hooch would get ill, she would often choose Severus to referee the games.

There was a dinner part to this party of the Malfoy’s but Severus had already told them that they weren’t going to stay. His reason, that he told them, anyway, was that it wouldn’t do good in Silas embarrassed himself at his first party. They agreed, with the promise that they would teach their godson the proper party etiquette later. Severus, actually, just didn’t want to stay. He rarely went to these things, and if he had a choice in it, he never would. He just didn’t like the crowds and the other people that were invited.

Checking the time, and seeing that it was nearing dinner time, Severus got rid of the chair and walked up to the group of kids who were introducing themselves to Silas. Once they finished, he walked up behind his brother, his usual glare on his face. Silas didn’t notice until the other children were looking at him, then Silas turned around.

“Hi, Severus,” Silas said.

“We must be going. Say goodbye to your friends.” Silas nodded and said goodbye without complaint, but Severus could tell that he didn’t want to leave. From what Severus knew of the boy’s childhood, that didn’t surprise him. He was probably having a good time around people since they weren’t teasing him. Still, Severus wanted to leave, so he waited until Silas was finished, then led the boy to the floo.

Harry followed his brother gloomily to the fireplace. He didn’t want to go, but he also didn’t want to upset Severus by saying so. He did have fun playing quidditch, and a few of the kids his age promised to owl him. They all seemed to like him, especially those who were on his team. He was surprised that he was able to catch the snitch, especially since the opposing seeker was on the quidditch team. He was a chaser, but he was still a good seeker. The boy left after the game to join other friends, though, so Harry didn’t catch his name.

All in all, the day went pretty well. Harry couldn’t wait until his birthday, especially since he knew some of the kids who were going to be there, now. For once in his life, he was absolutely happy.

"Silas, we need to be going," Severus said. "We are going to be at the school for seven days. You do not need more than what you will use during that time."

"But how will I know what I am going to use? I’ve never been there!" Harry asked, and Severus sighed. Although he was glad that his brother wasn’t as soft spoken as he was three weeks ago, from the obvious mistreatment of the muggles, sometimes he was irritating. All ten-year-old children were, though. That boy was no exception.

"It is a school," Severus answered. "There is a great deal for someone your age to do, even with no other students around." There was a Hogwarts staff meeting, and Severus was using the few days around it to work on lessons and potions for the upcoming school year. He would have normally had it done by now, but having a child to look after, despite the fact that he could watch over himself to some extent, took up a lot of time. "Take the time to get acclimated to the castle."

"Okay," Harry said, looking into the small trunk of stuff he packed. "I think I’m ready." He closed the trunk and Severus shrunk it and put it in his pocket. Severus wasn’t one who liked to carry or levitate heavy luggage around. "How are we getting there?"

"It is tradition to go by the Hogwarts Express, which is why we need to leave now; the next train does not leave for another week."

"Oh! Sorry, Severus," Harry answered. "So, the Hogwarts Express is a train, right?"

"Yes," Severus said flatly. Harry debated whether or not to stop asking questions, because at the Dursley’s, he’d always get in trouble, but Severus has never punished him for asking questions; he would just tell him to stop. It took a little bit for Harry to get used to it, but Severus wasn’t as scary as he was when he first brought him home. Actually, Harry had a feeling that wasn’t as mean as he portrayed to other people, but he wasn’t sure. He was rarely mean to Harry, though, so even if he did hate other people as much as he seemed, Harry didn’t care.

Once the two got to the train station, though, Harry freaked. He was going to see Hogwarts! He wasn’t going to have to wait until September first! Thinking about September first, Harry thought about his Hogwarts letter.

"When am I going to get my Hogwarts acceptance letter?" Harry decided to ask, and Severus gave him a glare. It was then he realized that they were still in the muggle area of King’s Cross – not one person around here was wearing a robe. He decided to wait until they were on the train before he asked again. Severus said that the train was a magical train, but it was pretty much a plain steam engine that was charmed.

With everything that had been going on lately, like reading his school books and being with Draco, he never did get a chance to fully read Hogwarts: A History, so pretty much everything he knew about Hogwarts was from the questions Severus answered. He didn’t answer all of them, though, because most of the questions were in the book. The history book wasn’t in a very interesting format, though, so he usually avoided the book.

Eventually, they came to an area between platform nine and ten, and Harry wondered how they were going to get onto nine and three quarters. It was then that Severus pulled Harry quickly through the barrier between, startling Harry. Severus let go of his hand, and Harry stopped walking to look behind him. Shaking his head, he ran to catch up with his brother.

There weren’t many people on the train, and Severus didn’t stop to talk to any of them. After they got on the train, Severus opened the door to a compartment near the back of the train, and told Harry to stay there while he went to find someone.

With nothing to do, Harry just sat down and looked out the window. This was his first time on a train, but, although he was excited to be going to Hogwarts, he didn’t want to just sit there doing nothing. Harry was never good at sitting around doing nothing.

As it turned out, though, he wasn’t doing nothing for long. An old lady, dressed in robes and a witches’ hat, came into the compartment without knocking.

"Harry Potter?" she asked.

"Silas Prince," Harry corrected, and the old lady shook her head.

"Of course. Severus said you were here. I am Professor McGonagall," she replied. "I will be your transfiguration professor."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Transfiguration seems hard. I’ve been reading some books on the topic, but it seems more complicated than potions. With potions, there are certain things and ways to mix things, but in transfiguration, you have to remember things differently."

"So you do," McGonagall asked. "I have no doubt that you will do just fine in the class. Severus told me that you are a very smart boy . . ."

"He said that?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Of course. He said that when you weren’t flying with Mr. Malfoy, you were reading. I am sure you will do well in all your classes."

"Thank you!" Harry said. No one ever said anything like that, although with Severus, it was mostly known that he felt that way, since he was always saying he better do well in school. If felt good for someone to say it out loud, though. It made it more concrete. Professor McGonagall then looked at him oddly.

"Do you not have anything to do? You are the only one your age on the train, and it is a very long ride," she said, sounding concerned.

"Er . . . no," Harry said. "Severus has all my things shrunk."

"Well, I’ll find him for you. He must have not thought of that when he left you here," the old teacher said, and Harry shrugged. He knew Severus well enough that he didn’t think anything of it. McGonagall left, and Harry was about to look out the window again when someone else, nearly running and carrying a small boy, entered the compartment. Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. He never thought that he’d see the boy ever again!

"Har – well, Silas Prince, I suppose. I am told that it was you who found my son in the woods," the man said excitedly. "I can’t believe that woman would just abandon a child like that – I thought better of her. If I ever see her again . . . well, that is beside the point, now isn’t it? I suppose I should introduce myself, and my son. I am Matthias Trimdol, and my son is William. I would say to call me Matt, but as I am going to be your defense professor, call me Professor Trimdol."

"Hello, Professor," Harry said slowly, surprised at the man’s energy, then turned to William. "Can I play with him for a little while? I don’t really have anything else to do."

"Of course! But speak only English with him. He’s gotten to know some words, but it is still going to take some time. I will be back in a little bit. I really must go and find the Deputy Headmistress. I passed her by rather quickly on my way in here. Have fun now," the professor said, handing Harry the small boy. William looked up at him and smiled.

"Hello," the boy hissed.

"Hello," Harry answered. "Your dad wants us to speak English. Do you like it with him?"

"Yes," William answered. Harry looked around the compartment for something to play with the boy, but there was nothing in there, as he knew before. So, with nothing else to do, Harry started talking to the boy in English, telling him what it was like to live with Severus. William probably didn’t understand most of it, if any, but at least he would get used to listening to English.

About ten minutes without interruptions in the compartment, Severus came in, and stopped in the doorway.

"How did he get here?" Harry’s brother asked.

"His father is the defense professor! Didn’t you know?" Harry asked, surprised that Severus didn’t know the other teachers that he worked with.

"As there is a new defense professor every year, no, I did not," Severus answered, looking at the two boys in front of him. Holding the little boy didn’t make Harry look any bigger. In fact, with how difficult it appeared to be to hold the boy, it made Harry look even younger than he already looked. "I assume he now has a name?"

"William. Isn’t this great?! I thought that I’d never see him again!" Harry gave the boy in his arms a small hug, then looked back at Severus.

"Would you like for trunk unshrunk for now?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, earning a glare from his brother. "Yes, please," he corrected himself. Severus didn’t correct him every time . . . of course, he was usually careful to speak correctly around Severus. Not that Harry understood why his brother wanted him to speak so . . . carefully. No one else ever did. Okay, Draco did, but that was different. The Malfoys only made Draco speak correctly when with company.

As Severus unshrunk the trunk, the new professor reentered the compartment.

"How are you and William doing, Silas? Oh," he said, noticing Severus. Harry was sure he noticed before, though. How could you not? He was standing nearing right in front of the doorway. "Hello, there. I’m Matthias Trimdol. And you are?"

"Severus Snape, potions master and professor at Hogwarts," Severus replied, and Harry wanted to laugh. He could tell that his brother was annoyed by the amount of energy the new professor had. Harry stood up, and Trimdol took William from him.

"Oh! You’re the only professor I’ve had yet to meet! On the train, anyway. I’m the new defense professor . . ." Trimdol held out his hand, but Severus didn’t take it.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Severus greeted flatly. "If you are competent enough, hopefully you will stay for more than a year," he sneered. "There hasn’t been a decent DADA professor since . . . six years, if I remember correctly. Her departure from Hogwarts was rather . . . unconventional."

"Oh, I plan on staying for while," Trimdol said, appearing to not notice the tone in Severus’ voice. "It will be just wonderful, raising William at Hogwarts. This will be my first time there, of course, but I’ve heard so many wonderful things about the castle. I was mostly home schooled by my mother, so I don’t know much about private schools, but, of course, no matter! I’m here, now!"

"Wonderful," Severus said sarcastically.

"Yes, I quite agree. Well, I must be going. William here is probably getting tired, and I’m sure you two have much you want to do before arriving, so I’ll be on my way. You are welcome to visit William anytime, Silas, okay?" Harry nodded, excited that he’d get to see the boy whenever he wanted.

"Good bye," Harry replied. "And thank you," he added politely. Severus was here, so he wanted to make his brother proud at how polite he could be, especially to someone that Severus found annoying.

"Oh, such a polite child!" Trimdol said, and Harry glared off into space. He was not a child. "Good bye, Silas, Severus."

When the man was finally gone, Severus shut and locked the compartment before sitting down.

"He probably won’t last the entire three terms," Severus predicted. "The last defense teacher who had the same attitude barely made it through two terms."

"I hope he says," Harry said. "I don’t want William to go away," Harry nearly whined.

"Yes, perhaps the one good matter of him coming," Severus said, and Harry felt it was needed to defend the newest professor.

"He was really nice!"

"He had too much energy for someone his age," Severus replied offhandedly, as if it didn’t matter. "It’s not healthy."

"So says you," Harry said, wanting to stick out his tongue, but decided against it. "You never seem to have energy."

"I simply exert my energy in other, more productive ways, Silas, as you were learn to do, eventually."

This time, Harry did stick out his tongue at Severus, earning himself a glare from the man. Harry shrugged. It had to be done, despite what Severus thought. Some things are just necessary.

"Professor McGonagall seems nice," Harry said, changing topics. "Are the other professors on the train?"

"Those that did not come last week, which is most," Severus replied. "I suppose you would like to meet them?"

"Yeah! I’m mean, yes! What else would I do?" Harry said.

"You have plenty to do in that trunk of yours. I believe that is why I unshrunk it," Severus said.

"Well, I don’t want to sit reading the entire trip. I’ll probably be doing enough of that at Hogwarts. I want to check out the library. Who’s the librarian? Is she nice? Is she on the train?"

"Silas!" Severus sighed. "Calm down, child. The librarian is quite strict with her books, so you’ll have to be careful with them. I believe she is already at Hogwarts. She lives near, so she visits on a regular basis.

"Oh," Harry replied, and then stayed quiet for a grand total of eight seconds. "Can I go visit the other professors? Will you come with me? I don’t think I want to go alone. Does everyone live in the same area of the castle, or is all spread out? Because I don’t want to get lost when I go visit Will – hey! What are you doing?"

Near the end of Harry’s ramble, Severus had picked his brother up under the arms and stood him on the seat, so he could straighten the boy’s robes without having to bend down. The boy was no good at keeping his robes straight when he was sitting still, no matter when he was excited as he was now.

"Come along," Severus said, taking Harry by the hand to help him down. "We will go meet your professors. They have been asking to meet you. Of course, they have been asking for ‘Harry Potter’."

"Arg," Harry complained. "I’m glad that my name is Silas Prince now, not Harry Potter. Why do the teachers know my name, though?"

"All the professors know of your situation," Severus answered vaguely, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"No one else knows, right?"

"You are correct. The headmaster has kindly been able to keep it out of the papers for us. Which reminds me, he wishes to speak with you when we settle in."

"About what?" Harry asked, suspiciously.

"I do not know, but you have nothing to worry about. I have long concluded that he has no ill wish toward our . . . relationship. He has promised me that he will not try and persuade you to do something you wish not to do."

"Okay . . ." Harry answered regrettably.

"Silas, although the headmaster often has a . . . second agenda, he does not go against his promises," Severus reassured Harry.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Silas, I am sure."

"Okay," Harry answered, feeling a little better about talking to the old man. It would have to go better than last time they talked together, right? And he hired Trimdol, William’s father, so he couldn’t be too bad.

Severus led Harry to the other side of the car and entered one of the compartments. There were three people in it, one of them McGonagall, and they all looked up when Severus and Harry entered, and Harry looked down at his shoes, embarrassed. He hated attention.

"Silas, this is Professor Sprout, professor of herbology, and Professor Kettleburn, professor of Care of Magical Creatures. I believe you have already met Professor McGonagall," Severus introduced the members in the compartment and Harry nodded.

"Hi," Harry said quietly. "I’m Silas Prince."

"Hello, Silas," Professor Sprout said. "Excited to start Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Harry answered. "I didn’t get my letter yet, though."

"Oh, you should be getting it soon," said Kettleburn. "You’re birthday is coming in a little less than two weeks, correct? Yes, very soon," he said, giving a little smile at McGonagall. Harry’s eyes widened.

"How did you know my birthday?" he asked, a little wary.

"Most people know your birthday, Silas. In fact, I think they mention it in the Daily Prophet in the ‘important dates’ section," Kettleburn answered, and Harry face grew very confused.

"But . . . never mind," Harry replied, dropping it. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he was famous in the wizarding world. It was entirely different than he was used to.

Harry was about to ask questions about the professors’ classes (he didn’t know there was a care of magical creatures class, and he wanted to know if he would be able to take it. He always liked animals), when a few more people piled into the compartment. They started introducing themselves to Harry, and after a few more minutes of being in the small compartment with too many people, Harry’s breathing started to become heavy, becoming nervous with the closeness of all the people. Everything was too closed in. Nervous, he grabbed onto Severus’ robes and resisted the urge to bury his face in them.

He was usually used to small spaces. After all, his cupboard was very small, and he didn’t have a problem with that. It was actually, usually, very comforting, especially since Vernon was too big to get in.

Severus must have noticed Harry’s discomfort, because soon, the only people in the compartment were the three professors from before.

"Are you alright?" Severus asked, almost coldly, and Harry nodded. "What happened?"

"I . . . got nervous," Harry replied truthfully.

"It seemed as if you were having trouble breathing," Severus said, understanding dawning in his voice.

"There were too many people," Harry said, and Severus nodded. Harry looked up and saw that the other three professors was watching them closely, causing Harry to blush and look down at the floor.

"I believe Silas needs to rest for awhile. He will talk with you at a later time," Severus told the three, loud enough for those hanging around outside the compartment to hear. Severus gently lead Harry out of the compartment and into their own, making sure the door was closed and locked.

"Do you need a calming potion?"

Harry shook his head.

"I’m fine now. There were just too many people, and not enough room to move," Harry explained.

"I see. Has this ever happened before?"

"No," he replied, hoping that Severus would just drop it. E didn’t want to talk about it.

Thankfully, the man did, probably because he didn’t have any more questions to ask. He didn’t know Severus for stopping questions if he had them to ask.

"Perhaps you should read or take a nap," Severus suggested, and Harry agreed by lying down. He was rather tired. Probably because he didn’t sleep well last night.

The rest of the trip to Hogwarts was rather uneventful. Harry gasped loudly when he saw the castle from the carriage, though. It was huge and beautiful!

Following Severus to where ever room they were going to be in (it appeared to be in the dungeons, as they kept going down the stairs), Harry looked around to take everything in. There was so much detail and Harry didn’t want to leave. He briefly wondered if Draco had seen the castle before, but decided not. The boy wouldn’t stop bragging about it if he did.

Severus’ rooms were really nice. Unlike their house, it was decorated in green and silver (Slytherin colors, of course), and was rather spacious for one person. Of course, it was two now, but there was still more than enough room even then. Harry’s room looked similar to his one at the house, but it was, once again, in Slytherin colors.

"If I’m not in Slytherin, can I change the colors of my room to the house I’m in?" Harry asked, and Severus nodded.

"It is quite possible that you will be in Slytherin," Severus replied, thinking about the incident a few days ago where Harry was able to trick him into eating something . . . he still wasn’t entirely sure what it was. "But yes, you may have the colors changed. I don’t believe changing them yourself would be within your abilities, so you may call a house elf to do so."

"Okay," Harry said, inwardly rolling his eyes at the grammar check. "Can I go look around the castle?"

"After your talk with the headmaster, I will give you a quick tour, then you may look around the castle."

"Okay," Harry said, suddenly dreading the visit with the old man. "When is that?"

"Immediately," Severus said, and Harry sighed. Better sooner than later.

Harry liked the gargoyle outside the headmaster’s office. He couldn’t help but think of putting one of those as the door to Vernon and Petunia’s house. They would have freaked!

"I will be back here in an hour," Severus said, after giving the password to the office. "Behave, and if he makes you uncomfortable, tell him. He told me he does not wish for you to be uncomfortable around him, but don’t feel forced to tell him anything you don’t want him to know."

"Okay," Harry replied, putting his hands in the pockets of his robes. His hand touched a soft bag, and Harry figured his runes. He didn’t remember putting them in his pocket, but for some reason, them being there calmed him a bit. Severus left, and Harry took the odd, wizard escalator up.

"Silias! I wasn’t expecting you here so soon. Take a seat, take a seat! Would you like a lemon drop?"

"No, thank you," Harry replied. The man was just so cheerful, and Harry had yet to decide if it was genuine or not. He reminded himself to ask Severus about it later.

"Are you sure? Oh, well. How have you been Silas?"

"Good," Harry said honestly.

"Very good. Now, what I was wondering when I asked you up here is whether you would like to join the Ancient Runes class your first year. Your mother, as well as your grandmother, if I remember correctly, did their first year."

"Did Severus?" Harry asked, curious.

"No, I’m afraid not. He wasn’t very interested at that point.

"Why me?"

"It is custom, for about a hundred years now, that when a child is especially gifted in an area of practice, and that practice isn’t usually taught until later years, to allow the child to join the class. Just as if someone was very good with magical creatures, or had a natural talent for divination (although that is a relatively new class), they would be asked to join, also. There are usually two or three children per year who are allowed to do this."

"I’d like that," Harry answered after thinking about it. "It’s kind of hard learning them on my own, and, although Severus helps some . . ." Harry trailed off.

"Yes, yes, of course. Well, then, I have your Hogwarts letter here. Would you like it now, or would you like it in the owl post tomorrow?"

"Now, please!" Harry said, nearly bouncing in his chair, and Dumbledore handed over a letter that was sitting on the desk. Harry didn’t open it yet. He wanted to be alone when he read it.

"How do you like the defense professor, Silas?" Dumbledore asked, and for the next 50 minutes, they engaged in rather pleasant conversation. By the time Severus showed up, Harry was feeling a lot better about Dumbledore; he didn’t make him uncomfortable once, which was saying something.

"Where are we going first?" Harry asked, doing his best not to jump around. It wasn’t working very well, and Severus was getting quite annoyed.

"Could you please walk normal?" Severus asked flatly, which worked, for the time being. We are starting in the Great Hall."

Harry vowed that this week, he’d explore the castle so much that he would never get lost. It was huge, and the moving staircases didn’t help much, but the entire castle was great. He was glad that he was coming here in September, because he didn’t want to leave.

Before Harry was allowed to explore, Severus gave him a tracking pendent (because there were so few people in the castle, it would be extremely hard to find him, even with the portraits all around), and told him to be in the Great Hall in two hours (12:30).

Since their rooms were in the dungeons, Harry decided that was a great place to start. Taking a chance with getting lost, he headed left, since right would take him out of the dungeons. If he did get lost and wasn’t able to make it to lunch in time, Severus would be able to find him, so he wasn’t worried.

Harry was nearly to the end of the corridor when someone called him.

"Boy! Boy!" Harry looked around until he saw who it was; one of the portraits. Harry thought it weird that they were all silent until now. "Who are you, and what are you doing at Hogwarts during the summer?" the portrait asked. The man was dressed in old brown robes, and there was a horse pulling a rundown cart. The man looked like a peasant of some sort. "Are you the son of Severus Snape? I wasn’t aware he had any family alive."

"Severus is my brother," Harry answered. He hadn’t thought before about the fact that Severus was probably old enough to be his father . . . that was kind of weird. "I’m Silas Prince. I’m exploring right now."

"Brother? That is unexpected. Well, move along, and have fun," the portrait said, and Harry thought it sounded confused. Shrugging, Harry made his way along the corridor and turned left at the corridor ahead, only to run right into a ghost. Well, right through a ghost. A scary looking ghost.

This was the first ghost Harry had ever seen, and Harry couldn’t help backing up slowly, eyes wide.

"You must be Silias. I was coming to look for you," the ghost said, voice sounding almost raspy. "You may call me the Bloody Baron, as everyone else does. I hope you are not causing trouble?" Harry shook his head slowly. His eyes were still wide, but he had stop retreating. He remembered Severus saying something briefly about the ghosts, and that they would never hurt a student.

"How did you know my name?" Harry gathered his courage to ask.

"News travels quickly," the ghost said. "It is likely that most portraits and ghosts know of you by this time."

"Oh," Harry answered, not as scared as he was before. They ghost did seem scary . . . and threatening in a strict sort of way, but not dangerous.

"Do you expect to be in Slytherin? If I remember correctly, the Prince family, and those related, were almost all in Slytherin or Ravenclaw. A good mix, those."

"I . . . I don’t know," Harry replied. "Severus thinks one of those two."

"I see," the Bloody Baron said, like Harry said something utterly obvious. "Why don’t you go finish your exploring." Harry nodded and starting walking fast down the corridor, not wanting to spend much time with the ghost.

Although the tracking charm that Harry had also had the time, he miss judged the time, and was late getting to the Great Hall. He finally did make it, though (20 minutes late), and sat down, not looking up at Severus, or at anyone in the Great Hall. He had a feeling that his brother was angry, and although he never made Severus truly angry, he had seen what happened when he was. One time, Severus messed up a difficult, long-brewing potion (week long) twice in a row, and the man destroyed a bunch of stuff, then left the house, not coming back until nightfall.

It’s not like he was afraid Severus would hurt him; Severus told him a bunch of times that he would never do so, no matter how mad he got, but Severus could always send him away. Back to the Dursley’s, or to an orphanage. Harry never brought up the subject because he was afraid of what Severus would say.

"Where have you been?" Severus asked, flatly, though Harry didn’t quite understand why. After all, he was wearing the tracking necklace.

"I . . . got lost," Harry replied, still looking down. "I thought it wouldn’t take long to get back, but then I couldn’t find my way here." Severus didn’t say anything, so Harry looked up.

"Are you going to eat? Or must I force you?" Harry blushed, and started putting food on his plate. It smelled really good, but he wasn’t very hungry. He hated eating when he wasn’t hungry, but he ate as much as he could without throwing up.

Harry was the last to finish eating, and he and Severus were the last in the Great Hall. When Harry pushed his plate away, Severus stood up.

"Silas, I wish to talk to you about something. Let us go to our rooms," Severus said, and Harry got a terrible feeling in his stomach. He was in trouble, he just knew it. When they got to the rooms in the dungeons, Harry hovered near the door, wondering what Severus was going to do.

"Sit," Severus said, and Harry sat down in one of the dark green chairs. "What is the matter?" he asked.

"What?" Harry asked, giving his brother a confused look.

"Did something happen while you were looking around the castle? You have been avoiding looking at me since you entered the Great Hall. I only can think that you did something you weren’t supposed to, or something is wrong."

"I . . ." Harry started, not knowing how to say this. Would his brother understand? "I thought you were really mad at me for being late . . ." he decided to continue softly.

"Mad for being late . . . perhaps I would have been if you did not get lost, but it is very easy to get lost here, especially on your first day."

"So . . . you aren’t mad at me?" Harry asked tentatively.

"No, I am not. Were you afraid I was going to hurt you?" Severus asked, and Harry looked at him, wide-eyed.

"No! I mean, I know you won’t ever hit me, anyway. But . . . I thought . . . I guess I figured that . . . if I was bad, you would send me away. The Dursleys always . . ."

"I told you not to bring those damn muggles up," Severus said, irritated. "I will not be sending you away. Nor will I hit you or punish you for no reason nor excessively. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, brushing away the tears in his eyes that were threatening to fall. He wanted to believe his brother so much, and he decided that there was no reason not to.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly. He wanted to say he was sorry, but he knew that his brother didn’t like him to apologize when he didn’t do anything wrong.

"Your welcome," Severus sighed, giving his younger brother’s shoulders a small squeeze to reassure him. "Perhaps you would like to stay here for awhile? Have you ever played chess?"

"No . . ." Harry answered. "Is it hard?"

"It can be. It takes strategy and concentration. And a good eye."

"Will you teach me?" Harry asked, putting his hands in his pocket, only to brush up against some parchment. Pulling out the letter, Harry’s face spread out into a grin. "I forgot about this!" Harry said.

"You Hogwarts letter? Did the headmaster give it to you?" Severus asked, and Harry nodded, opening it. He read it through two times, then turned to Severus.

"When can we go shopping for this stuff?"

"After this week," he answered. "Perhaps after your birthday."

"Okay," Harry answered, a little disappointed, but brightened up again when Severus took out the chess board. Harry loved learning new games.

Harry looked at the rune in front of him: Hagalaz. The one he pulled before that, Thurisaz, was beside it.

It didn’t matter how many times he tried; every single time he pulled those same two runes. Both indicated destruction of some sort, which sometimes could mean something good, but for the purpose he pulled them (what his day was going to be like), it couldn’t be a good thing. He was seriously thinking about not leaving his room today, but Severus would get mad that he didn’t come and eat. A bad reading for the day isn’t reason enough for his brother to lock himself in his room, as he said before.

Since it was nearing the time for breakfast, Harry quickly got dressed and started toward the Great Hall, fingering his runes while he thought. He decided to ask his brother if they expected anything bad to happen today. The reading just got his really tense.

“Careful child!” a voice said behind Harry, causing him to jump. It was Trelawney. “All signs indicate a bad day, perhaps even a death. Careful,” she said, before walking past Harry, and he wondered what she was doing in the dungeons. She only saw her once before, and at that time, she was talking about something odd that Harry didn’t quite catch. He didn’t really believe anything that she said, but her telling him to be careful made him even more uneasy.

Harry was almost to the Great Hall, when he was nearly tripped by a large snake, a few feet long and about three inches wide, who was slithering past at a speed Harry didn’t think was possible for snakes. Curious, since Harry didn’t think there were supposed to be snakes running loose at Hogwarts, Harry followed it to the second floor, but stopped outside the bathroom it went into.

It’s a girl’s bathroom, Harry thought, but then shook his head. If there is a snake wandering around where it shouldn’t, Harry figured he could deal with it just fine. After all, he could talk to snakes, and he hasn’t had a problem with any of them so far. Making his decision, Harry pushed into the bathroom, only to be facing a crying ghost.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked accusingly, no longer crying once she saw Harry. “You’re a boy.”

“I’m looking for the snake that came into here,” Harry answered. “I’m Silas. What’s your name?”

“You want to know?” she asked, surprised.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“They never want to know my name,” the ghost said. “They just make fun of me. Of course, they already know my name. Moaning Myrtle, they say. Moping, Moaning Myrtle.”

“That’s mean of them,” Harry said. “At my old school they used to make fun of me, too. Always calling me a freak.”

“Really?” Myrtle said, sounding interested. “You could stay here with me in my toilet.”

“I think my brother would get mad at me. Thanks for the offer, though,” Harry said, trying not to upset the ghost.

“Is your brother here too? Is he teased too?”

“He teaches here,” Harry said. “Do you want to help me find the snake that came in here?”

“Hmph,” Myrtle said. “It’s always someone else. No one cares about Myrtle, no. No time for Moaning Myrtle.”

Harry sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy.

“Sorry,” he decided to say, then went around the bathroom looking for the snake. Myrtle had dived into a toilet and Harry could hear her echoing through the pipes. After five minutes, and still no luck finding the snake, Harry was about to leave when Myrtle came out of her toilet.

“The snake went down that hole,” she said pointing to a pipe sticking out from the ground under the sinks.

“Thank you, Myrtle!” Harry said, then his stomach growled. “Oh, no! I’m probably late for breakfast!”

“Fine, go then,” Myrtle said, and Harry said bye before he running out of the bathroom to the Great Hall, where Severus was just sitting down. Harry walked up to the table, out of breath.

“You shouldn’t be running inside, Silas,” Severus said, but Harry didn’t respond, he just sat down.

“Are there supposed to be snakes running loose in the castle?” Harry asked, and everyone at the table turned to look at him.

“No, my boy, why would you ask that?”

“Because a big one went past me and I followed it to a bathroom,” Harry answered, giving a wave to William before continuing. “It disappeared down a pipe.”

“You just followed a large snake?” Flitwick asked, and Harry nodded slowly. Severus told him to keep his parselmouth ability quiet, so he hoped that Professor Trimdol wouldn’t say anything about that.

“I like snakes,” Harry answered. “And it didn’t look like it was going to hurt me.” Most of the teachers gave Harry a disapproving look before turning to Severus.

“After breakfast, Severus, you should bring Silas to check that out. I would come, but I have quite a bit of paperwork to fill out before the meeting later today. If someone else would like to go with . . .” Dumbledore left it open.

“I am quite sure it is nothing,” Severus said, and Harry turned to glare at him. “We will be fine.”

“I’m not lying!” Harry said, offended.

“I realize that, Silas,” Severus said flatly. “I was merely suggesting that a snake from the grounds moved into the castle. It is quite possible.”

“Yes. Ever so often we get a few animals from the grounds in here, but that is very rare,” Dumbledore said. Breakfast went slowly for Harry, as the past two breakfasts did, but finally everyone left, and Severus indicated that Harry should lead the way. When they arrived at Myrtle’s bathroom, Severus gave his younger brother a look before following Harry in.

“It went down there,” Harry said, pointing to the pipe.

“It probably leads to somewhere on the grounds,” Severus said, and Harry looked around the sinks. Thinking about the snake, Harry shook his head. “What?”

“I just wish there was a way we could open it up,” Harry answered, and Severus shook head and was about to say something when the sink started moving. After a minute, the moving stopped, and Harry looked down the hole that it opened up into. Severus pulled Harry back roughly, standing between the ten year old and the sinks.

“What happened?” Harry asked.

“What did you say, Silas? Before the sinks moved.”

“That I wished it would open,” Harry said slowly. “Why?”

“Because you spoke in parseltongue,” Severus answered flatly.

“Oh.”

“Silas, go to the teacher’s lounge on the first floor. I assume you remember where it is? There should be at least one professor there. Bring whoever is there, here.”

“What if . . . something attacks you?” Harry asked, looking at the hole, worried.

“I will be fine. Now go.” Harry nodded, and ran to find more professors. Only McGonagall and Flitwick were in the room, and once they heard Harry’s account of what happened, they went with Harry without question.

“Merlin,” McGonagall said once she saw. “Do you think . . . this is . . .”

“It’s possible,” Severus said. “Silas opened it by accident with parselmouth.”

“He’s a parselmouth?” Flitwick asked.

“Yes,” Severus said sharply. “And I would appreciate it if you did not tell anyone.”

“Of course, Severus,” Flitwick said.

“What is it?” Harry asked, more curious than scared now.

“We will tell you later, Silas,” Severus answered. “We are going down. There is a ladder on the side, so we’ll be able to get back up, but you need to stay here unless something goes wrong, since the ladder is at a weird angle. You will not come down, understand?”

“Fine,” Harry said. He wanted to see what was down there. If he was able to open it, he should be able to go down, right? Harry watched as his brother and two future professors slowly maneuvered themselves down the odd-angled ladder, making sure to listen for anything that didn’t sound right.

After ten minutes, he got extremely bored and sat at the edge of the hole. He could hear the three below, but he couldn’t make out anything of what they said.

After an hour, he could no longer hear the voices from below, and Harry got a little worried. Also excited. If they were able to get in all the way . . .

Knowing his brother would get mad at him (if he was caught), Harry seriously contemplated climbing down and investigating, when he heard the sound of people climbing the ladder echoing up through the pipe. Frustrated, he sat back down and waited. The three adults were out of there amazingly fast, and before Harry could figure out what was going on, Severus pulled him to his feet and wouldn’t let go.

“Close it,” Severus hissed, and Harry looked at him, confused. “Close it Silas, now.”

“How?” Harry wondered.

“Say . . . ‘close’ in parseltongue,” McGonagall suggested, but all Harry could get out was ‘close’ in English. Finally, Severus conjured a snake, and Harry was able to close the entrance.

“What happened?” Harry asked, but he didn’t get an answer. Once the three professors seemed satisfied that the entrance was closed, Severus grabbed Harry by the hand and dragged him out of the bathroom, leading McGonagall and Flitwick.

“I can walk myself,” Harry said, trying to pull out of his brother’s grip, to no prevail. They arrived at the Headmaster’s office very quickly, and much to Dumbledore’s surprise.

“What is this about?” the old man asked once he saw the look on the three adults’ faces.

“Silas, go wait out in the other room,” Severus said, and Harry was about to argue. “Go.”

Harry went into the other room, sulking, and the adults closed the door behind him.

sSsSsSsS

“Do you think it is the Chamber of Secrets, Albus?” Minerva asked after the three explained what happened.

“The Basilisk would explain the events 50 years ago,” Albus said, thinking. “We need to close off that area of the corridor. If the entrance isn’t opened, the Basilisk is harmless, as we haven’t had any attacks. It didn’t notice you, you said?”

“It appeared to be sleeping,” Flitwick said.

“Good. We’ll put up a wall barrier, but we’ll need the rest of the staff to do so.”

“Why don’t we just kill it?” McGonagall asked.

“It would be too dangerous. You would get near it, and it would kill you immediately. A distance attack wouldn’t work, as most spells wouldn’t work on it.”

“So we just keep the monster in the school?”

“Until we figure out what to do, we have no choice. The basilisk will have no way to get through the barrier, that I am sure of,” Dumbledore said, but Severus looks wary. “Might I suggest you tell Silas, Severus? In case he decides he wants to go down there himself before we close it off?”

“Perhaps,” Severus said, narrowing his eyes. “When are putting the barrier up?”

“This week,” Dumbledore answered. “Tomorrow, if I am able to put everything together.” The three professors in the room nodded, then Dumbledore ushered them out.

Harry stood up when they left Dumbledore’s office, looking at Severus expectantly. Severus nodded, and when McGonagall and Flitwick left, he explained the situation to his younger brother.

The next day, Dumbledore, Severus, McGonagall, Flitwick, Trimdol, Kettleburn, Hooch, Sprout, and Camstar put up the magical wall, while Harry watched with William, halfway down the corridor. Harry was interested at first, but it soon got boring because the professors rarely said anything, and nothing seemed to happen until the wall started building itself at a very slow pace.

Finally, the wall was up, Trimdol took William, and everyone but Harry, Severus and the runes professor left the corridor.

“Mr. Prince,” Camstar greeted, and Harry shook her hand.

“Hi, Professor Camstar,” Harry answered. They had only met once in the passing, since Camstar arrived early that morning.

“I hear you are going to be in my Ancient Runes class,” she said, and Harry nodded, putting his hand in his pocket to feel his runes. Camstar must have noticed this.

“You carry your runes with you?” she asked, and Harry nodded again.

“I feel better with them,” Harry replied.

“Yes. I knew your mother. She always carried her preferred set with her. Sometimes two sets, depending on the day. You must have the gift, then. You take care of them well?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Well, I really must be going. I have classes to prepare. It was good meeting you, Mr. Prince. Good bye, Severus.” Severus nodded and Harry waved before they headed back down into the dungeons.

“It’s cold down here,” Harry said. He was currently just wearing a short sleeve shirt and a pair of pants, seeing no reason to dress up since he was planning on exploring the grounds after lunch.

“Put on a robe,” Severus said plainly as they entered their rooms, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“So the basilisk can’t get out? Are you sure?”

“Very sure,” Severus answered.

“Good. So . . .” Harry trailed off.

“So, what?”

“I don’t know. I’m bored.”

“Then read. I have planning to do.”

Two days later, Harry was beginning to know the main part of the castle really well. He was disappointed that Severus wouldn’t show him the Slytherin common room, but he got over it when his older brother reminded him of the Diagon Alley trip coming up.

He wasn’t looking forward to leaving Hogwarts the next morning, especially since he wouldn’t see William for over a month, but he reminded himself that he’d get bored all alone at the castle. Besides that, they were going from the train station to Diagon Alley to get Harry’s school supplies, and in a week, it was his birthday.

They were having the party at the Malfoy Manor because Severus didn’t want the children to know where their future professor lived, among other things. There were going to be a bunch of kids about Harry’s age, some he would be going to school with, some he wouldn’t be, and in addition to being excited, he was nervous. The party that was at Malfoy manor before didn’t have all the same families that were going to be at his birthday, and many more kids, so Harry was back to thinking that they might not like him. That, and having a birthday party for him with people he didn’t even know, seemed really weird to Harry.

SsSsSsSsSsSsSsS

It took forever for Harry to get a wand. Severus even went to a nearby shop to get something and came back before his wand was found, causing Harry to become extremely nervous. Eventually, the old man started digging through older wands when Harry had tried all the newer ones the man thought were a possibility. It was either not strong enough, the wrong core, wrong length, wrong wood . . . eventually, though, Harry assumed that the old man narrowed it down enough and he brought out four boxes from the back.

“Try this,” he said. A few sparks, and he took the wand back. “Wrong core. Hmm. That leaves out this one, too. How about this?” Nothing happened. “No unicorn for you, then, hmm? Well, the last holly wand I have. Try it.” Picking it up, Harry felt a warmth spread from the wand into him, and Harry looked up at the man, smiling. “Hmm . . . odd,” he said, and Harry looked at him with confusion.

“Holly, 11 inches, supple, single phoenix tail feather. That phoenix that gave that feather is Fawkes, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore’s phoenix. This is a very special wand, Mr. Prince. I believe you are destined for great things.” Severus paid for the wand, and they left the shop, Harry thinking about what Ollivander meant. A Phoenix feather, holly.

“What does holly represent? Isn’t that what my runes are made of?” Harry asked his brother.

“Don’t you remember? It . . . repels evil, I believe.”

“Would . . . would that have anything to do with me being the boy who lived?” Harry asked after thinking about that for a few minutes, and Severus studied him briefly.

“It could.”

“No one has to know, right?”

“Know what?”

“That I’m the boy who lived. I don’t want anyone to know I’m Harry Potter,” he whispered. “I just want to be normal. I don’t want to be famous, and I don’t want to be a freak everyone picks on. I mean, with Draco, it’s fine. He acts as if he doesn’t know, and he would tell anyone,” he said, nearly pouting.

“Then don’t tell anyone,” Severus answered. “Although, I doubt you can keep it hidden forever. Eventually, they’ll know. You have that scar. I’m surprised no one has noticed it yet.”

“No one looks for it,” Harry answered. “Can I get a pet?”

“No,” Severus said, glad for the topic change. “Perhaps when you are older. Did you not already ask that?”

“Maybe. I don’t know,” Harry said, now fully pouting.

“Stop pouting,” Severus said, close to snapping, and Harry did. Harry could tell that something was bothering him, and he didn’t know if it was him or something that happened, so to play it safe, he decided to behave.

“Where to now?” Harry changed the subject, looking at his list. There were only a few things left to get on the list, and he wanted to look around Diagon Alley more since last time they were there, they didn’t go many places, and he also wanted to stop at the runes shop in Knockturn Alley for a book that he heard about. He was sure Ramla’s shop would have it.

“To a stationary shop, and then I need to get some potion ingredients. I suppose you can wander around Diagon Alley looking at the street shows while I go.” Harry thought about this for a minute. He did want to see the street shows, but Severus said they had them a lot, and Severus was going to Knockturn Alley anyway . . .

“Can I go to Ramla’s shop instead? I want to see if she has a book . . .” Harry trailed off.

“They didn’t have it at Flourish and Blott’s?” Severus asked.

“No, and I don’t think they would anyway,” Harry answered, and Severus stopped to give him a look.

“Is it illegal?”

“No!” Harry said. “It’s just that it was referenced in a few of the other books I have, but I don’t think it’s very popular.”

“I suppose I could drop you off there while I go to get the ingredients, if you promise not leave the shop.”

“I won’t!” Harry promised and after they got all of Harry’s writing supplies, Severus dropped his younger brother off at the runes shop.

“Hello?” Harry asked, entering the shop, a warm feeling spreading through him. He loved it there.

“Yes?” he heard Ramla answer. “Who is it?” she came out then.

“Silas! I was wondering when you’d come back. Where is Severus?”

“He went to get potions stuff,” Harry answered. “I was wondering if you had this book?” he handed her the piece of parchment he wrote the book and author on, and she nodded.

“I do believe I have a few copies. Let me check.” She came back a few minutes later with a copy. “This is a very good book. It goes into detail about the runes, and it doesn’t cut out the disturbing facts, which is very good for accurate readings.” Harry took the book, and while they waited for Severus to come back, Ramla told Harry stories about his mother.

Harry waited before they were nearing Diagon Alley before he opened the book and read it while they were walking, still making sure he kept close to Severus so he didn’t have to watch where he was going. He didn’t notice when Severus took a sharp turn right, though, and he ran right into someone a few years older than him.

“Oi!” the boy said. “Looks like we have a reader here, Gred!”

“I see, Forge.”

Harry closed the book and looked at the two red headed boys.

“Fred! George! What’s the hold up?” a lady, Harry assumed the mother, called, then came toward them.

“Nothing, Mother,” answered the first boy. “Just ran into this boy here.”

“He looks a lot like Snape, doesn’t he?” the other boy asked quietly, but Harry still heard him. The mother then came, looked at the boy and the direction she assumed he came from (Knockturn Alley), and gave him a worried look.

“Are you lost? Where are your parents?”

“My brother went . . .” Harry looked around, not seeing Severus anywhere.

“Lost then,” she confirmed. “What’s your name?”

“Silas Prince,” Harry answered. “I need to go find my brother.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll help you, Silas,” she said.

“No need,” Harry heard the familiar silky voice behind him say.

“Professor Snape!” said one of the twins.

“Severus,” the mother greeted. “Silas is . . . your brother?”

“Yes,” Severus answered, and Harry smirked. His brother was getting irritated. Of course, when he figured that Severus was irritated with him for not following, he stopped smirking.

“You haven’t been bringing him to Knockturn Alley, have you?” the mother asked. “Because that was the direction he was coming from.”

“Where I bring my charge is no concern of yours, Mrs. Weasley,” Severus answered. “Come along, Silas.”

Harry followed him, and they flooed back home. Harry put the encounter with the Weasleys out of his mind, preferring to read the book he got and to organize his school things. And think about his birthday, which was coming up real soon.

SsSsSsSsSsSsSsSsS

“Severus!” Harry exclaimed, even though he knew he was irritating his brother to no end. Nothing could bring him down at this point. It was his first ever birthday party! “They are going to be there soon!”

“Two hours is not soon, Silas,” Severus commented, taking notes from some potions journal. “Your godparents said to come at 11:30, so that is when we will go. If you are bored, go read.”

“I’ve been reading since I got up! I can’t sit anymore.”

“Then go outside and play. But don’t get messy. It will do you no good to show up at your own party a mess.”

“Fine,” Harry grumbled, and went outside to the swing. After Severus learned that Harry liked swinging, he put one up for Harry so he wouldn’t have to go to the park to swing. That way, if he lost track of time, all Severus would have to do is call him in.

Swinging and thinking, an hour past by rather quickly, but soon enough, he could no longer sit and he had to go inside and annoy Severus until he brought him. He was just so excited and nervous! Inside, Severus gave him a very mild calming draught, mostly for his own nerves because the boy was being so irritating, and made sure that he was still clean. Satisfied, Severus handed Harry his cloak and walked the boy over to the fireplace.

“You’ll go alone, today,” Severus said, and Harry looked at his brother, wide-eyed.

“You’ve done it enough, now, so you should have no problem. Especially to the Malfoy manor.

“Okay,” Harry answered, taking a handful of floo powder. He was a little nervous going through the floo for the first time by himself, but he made it through with no problem, and nearly pounced excitedly on Draco, who was waiting for him in the room.

“Come on Silas!” Draco said, pulling Harry out of the room, then remembered Harry’s cloak and threw it at a house elf before continuing to drag him to the play room. “They’re going to be here, soon.”

“We’re just going to wait here?” Harry asked, confused. He had no idea what to expect today.

“No,” Draco said, looking at him like he was stupid. “What we are going to do is get the games we want to play ready. I was going to do it myself, but Mother said since it is your party, you should help. We are going to have lunch first, in the larger dining room, then we’ll play games. Then cake, of course. Mother said muggles have cake too, unfortunately, so you’re probably used to that, at least. After that, you open your presents, thank everyone, then they leave. Then, of course, you and I go through your presents and we play.” Harry laughed at Draco’s antics and nodded. It didn’t sound much different that a muggle birthday, so Harry was much less nervous than before, even though he never had a muggle birthday before.

They picked out three games, which Draco said should take about two hours to play, and then went down to the large dining room just in time to meet the first guests. Ten minutes later, there were about twenty kids Harry’s age around the table, chatting away. At first, Harry was nervous because everyone seemed to know each other. He knew two kids from the quidditch match at the party awhile ago, and Draco, but everyone else was a stranger to Harry. Draco soon encouraged him to join in on the conversations, though, and he became fast friends with Blaise Zabini, a girl named Tracey Davis, and Stephan Cornfoot.

Harry was surprised that he hadn’t seen his godparents or Severus, but when he mentioned it to Draco, his friend just said they’ll come for the opening of the presents. Harry was a little disappointed at first, but then he realized it would be really weird if there were 20 eleven year olds, and only three adults in the room.

When everyone was full, Draco lead everyone to the play room, then introduced Harry to everyone. They all said hi and wished him happy birthday, then Harry suggested a game of Exploding Snap, which everyone agreed to. Amazingly (or not so much, looking at the size of Draco’s play room), there was enough cards for everyone to play at once, which ended up with an hour and a half game. After that, they played another quick game, then went back to the dining room for cake, then to one of the social rooms to open presents.

Harry’s godparents and Severus were sitting there talking, and when the children entered the room, they motioned for Harry to sit on one of the chairs and everyone else to find a spot around the room. Some chose chairs, others obviously preferred the floor. Harry’s eyes widened at the amount of presents on the floor next to the fireplace.

One at a time, each present was handed to Harry and he carefully opened each one, looked at it, thanked the person, then moved to the next one. After all those presents were opened, they everyone talked for a bit before they left. Harry moved towards his presents after they left, a large smile on his face, to look at the gifts more closely.

“Silas,” Narcissa said, causing him to stop. “You still have our present to open,” she told him.

“There’s more?” Harry asked, bewildered. He already got a present from Draco, so he was a little confused.

“Of course,” Lucius laughed, and Severus raised an eyebrow at his older friend. Lucius handed Harry a small package. Sitting down, he slowly opened it.

“It has protection charms on it that are connected to Severus, so if you are injured, he’ll know. You’re starting Hogwarts soon, so you’ll probably need it,” Narcissa said as Harry looked at the odd colored chain in his hands. “It won’t interfere with your defense class, so you’ll be able to learn those hexes, but when you are in real danger, it will know and protect you. Also, it is invisible to others when you have it on.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“You’re welcome,” Lucius said. “Now, Severus did say he wanted to go, so we will see you at a later time. Perhaps Draco could visit you next time to go through all your new possessions.”

“Yes!” Harry said, as he watched Severus shrink all his new things. They flooed back to their home, and Severus told Harry there was one more thing.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Severus said flatly. “It does not suit you to be surprised about situations such as this. It is your birthday.”

“I know,” Harry answered, and he saw Severus bring out a broom.

“A Nimbus 2000?” Harry asked, surprised.

“Yes. You will not be able to bring it with you to Hogwarts this year, but you do need your own broom when flying with Draco, instead of flying one of his all the time.”

“Thank you!” Harry said, giving his brother a quick hug. “Can I go fly?”

“For an hour only,” Severus said, appearing uncomfortable. “Until dinner. But stay within the yard limits, otherwise muggles might see you.”

“Thank you!” Harry said again, jumping up and down, then ran outside to fly.

Harry was excited, scared, and sad for the school year to start. Excited because he was going to Hogwarts, scared because he wanted to fit in and because he didn’t want anyone to know he was Harry Potter, and sad because he wouldn’t get to see his home for ten months.

Severus was already at Hogwarts, since he had to be there four days before term started, so Narcissa was bringing both Harry and Draco to the train station later that morning. Harry was all packed. He had been for the past week, which had annoyed Severus. Draco couldn’t decide what he wanted to bring until an hour ago when he finished packing, which annoyed Harry. He had argued with Draco, saying that there was no way he’d be needing all that stuff, but Draco wouldn’t relent.

Half an hour before they had to leave, both Harry and Draco were in the front foyer, sitting on their trunks and waiting for Narcissa. When she came, she gave them both a sad look

"I’m going to miss you two," she said, smiling sadly. "At least you will be at Hogwarts, which is a lot closer than Durmstrang."

"What’s Durmstrang?" Harry asked.

"It’s another wizarding school. Father wanted to send me there," Draco replied, and Harry shrugged. Harry didn’t think he would like Hogwarts as much without Draco, so he was happy that he wasn’t going to that other school. "Well? Let’s go!" Draco said, sounding like the spoiled brat he was, and Harry laughed. He honestly didn’t know if Draco just acted like that, or if he had no idea that he was acting spoiled, but either way, Harry always had fun laughing at him when he went into that mode.

They flooed to the train station, and Harry bounced up to the train, dragging his trunk behind him. Draco wasn’t far behind. Remembering his godmother, he ran back, gave her a quick hug goodbye, then boarded the train. He took a compartment near the entrance. He left his trunk on the seat next to him and waited for Draco.

"You’re so slow!" Harry said when Draco finally entered five minutes later.

"No, you are rushing. It isn’t proper to rush, if you didn’t know," Draco drawled, and Harry laughed again. "Anyway, I need to find Crabbe and Goyle. My father wants me to help them."

"Crabbe and Goyle?" Harry asked. "Why? Your father doesn’t even like their parents!"

"I didn’t ask," Draco answered. "I’ll be back in a little bit, though."

"Okay. I’m going to go look for some other people, then."

"If you see Blaise, tell him he owes me, still."

"Owes you what?" Harry asked, confused.

"Long story. Blaise probably won’t tell you, so I will later."

Harry rolled his eyes and went down the train corridor opposite of Draco to look for someone he met at his party. A lot of kids were still coming onto the train, most of them a lot bigger than Harry, so he avoided them and continued down the train.

"Hey, it’s Snape!" Harry heard from behind him, and he turned around to face the twins he met coming out of Knockturn Alley.

"My last name’s Prince," Harry answered, feeling brave enough to talk back to the two older boys.

"Yes, we know," said one.

"But you’re brother is Snape."

"That makes you a Snape, too."

"Not really," Harry answered flatly, and they laughed. One of them patted his head as the twins walked by.

"Ignore them," said a boy who looked like the twins, only he appeared to be Harry’s age. "They are always like that. I’m Ron."

"Silas. Are you a first year, too?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. I’m excited! What house do you expect to be in?" Ron asked.

"I’m hoping Ravenclaw. If not that, then Slytherin."

"Slytherin?" Ron asked, almost sneering. "Why Slytherin? That’s where all the dark wizards come from. They’re mean."

"That’s not true," Harry answered, angry that the boy would think that. "Most of the kids I know expect to be in Slytherin, and they’re all nice!"

"That’s what they want you to think," Ron said. "My parents always said Slytherins were a wrong sort of bunch to get involved with."

"Well, that’s not true," Harry said forcefully, and Ron stopped to think a little. "People just think that way, but it’s not true."

"Maybe," Ron relented, but he gave Harry a weird look, before heading off in the opposite direction. Harry shook his head. Severus had told him there were prejudices again Slytherin, but he didn’t think they were that strong. Deciding that he didn’t want to run into any other people like that, Harry went back to his compartment to find Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle there.

"I ran into this Ron kid," Harry said. "He obviously hates Slytherin."

"Ron? Did he have red hair and a lot of freckles?"

"Yeah," Harry answered slowly.

"That must be the Weasley that’s our age. They’re muggle lovers. Can’t trust them," Draco answered.

"What’s wrong with muggles?" Harry asked.

"Muggles ruin the pureblood line, Silas," Draco answered. "Muggleborns, too. They shouldn’t even be allowed at Hogwarts."

"Well, why not? They have magic, too," Harry wondered, confused. He never talked about muggles with Draco before, or with Severus, so he wasn’t aware of this.

"Muggles are bad," Draco answered. "That’s just the way it is."

"Have you even met a muggle, Draco?" Harry asked.

"Of course not," his friend answered. "And I don’t want to."

"They’re not all bad," Harry said, then shook his head, indicating he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He’d have to make sure to talk about this with Severus later. Did he and Harry’s godparents feel the same way? Harry was raised by muggles, and even though the muggles didn’t like him, it wasn’t bad. The television was one of the things Harry missed from the muggle world.

Harry sat down, avoiding Crabbe and Goyle. The other three in the room started talking about quidditch, and Harry took out his runes book. He would be the youngest in the class by two years, so he wanted to make sure he could prove he belonged there. He didn’t want the older kids to laugh at him because he didn’t know something he should.

The long train ride didn’t seem as long to Harry as the first time did, probably because he was with more people, and they soon were waiting outside the Great Hall to be sorted. No longer bored, Harry was nearly jumping out of his skin he was so excited. Severus wouldn’t tell him how students got sorted, but Harry figured it would have to be some magical way, so he was hoping for some sort of magical show.

Draco knew how they were getting sorted, but he also wouldn’t tell, so Harry glared at him, and listen in to Professor McGonagall talking. He’d already been in the Great Hall, and he mostly knew what the professor was talking about, so he wasn’t very much interested in listening. He just wanted to get sorted and to start eating! Hogwarts food was a lot better than what Severus made at home, and was even better than what the house elves at Draco’s house made, and he was getting hungry.

Finally, Professor McGonagall opened the doors to the Great Hall and led the first years in. Harry smiled at the reactions of his fellow classmates; he had a similar reaction when he first came here. Finally, the sorting started, and Harry nearly started laughing when he learned that all he had to do was put on a hat.

Harry recognized those that had come to his party, but no one else. McGonagall finally got to the ‘P’s and "Prince, Silas," was called. When Harry heard his name, he froze. He was finally getting sorted! Remembering everyone was waiting for him, he hurried up to the stool before McGonagall called his name again.

"Very strong mind," Harry heard in his head after he put the hat on. "You would do well in any house. But you are afraid of the prejudices against Slytherin. You’ll get over those soon enough, but I believe you’ll do best in RAVENCLAW!" the Sorting Hat yelled the house, and the Ravenclaw table started clapping. Harry smiled up at his brother, who was sitting at the head table. Severus gave him a curt nod, and Harry sat down at his new table.

Harry sat down next to Stephan Cornfoot, who was sorted before him, and they watched the rest of the sorting. Before they could start talking, Dumbledore had stood up and set them to eating.

Glad to be back eating Hogwarts food, Harry dug in after giving a quick wave to Draco and he listened to the conversations around him while he eat. He noticed that Stephan didn’t do much talking, either, and he gave his friend a smile.

Once they finished eating, Dumbledore stood up again.

"Welcome back and welcome first years to another year at Hogwarts! As usual, a few announcements. The Forbidden Forest is, of course, forbidden. Mr. Filch would like me to announce that the list of banned items has grown to include a total of 29 more items, and if you wish to see the list in it’s entirety, it is posted on the door of his office. Also, no magic is to be used in the corridors between classes . . ." Harry listened as Dumbledore talked about quidditch tryouts and a few other rules before the school song was started. Harry and Stephan sang an upbeat tune, and were probably among the few who finished first.

"First year Ravenclaws!" Harry heard from down the table. A girl several years older than them was standing up next to the table. "I’ll be showing you to the common room," she said a little quieter once he was sure he got all the first year’s attention. Harry and Stephan stood up and went to the prefect.

"I’m one of the fifth year prefects, Penelope Clearwater. Welcome to Ravenclaw. There are a few rules we’ll go over once we get into the common room . . ." Harry stopped listening again. He heard all the rules before, and he knew his way around the castle, so there wasn’t anything important to listen to.

The common room was decorated in blue and bronze and had several fireplaces, several sofas and chairs, and a lot of tables. It looked very comfortable, and Harry spotted the perfect corner for reading. It was dark, but a well placed lumos spell would take care of that. That was one of the few spells that Severus taught him this summer, along with a bunch of spells that were compatible with runes.

After introductions, Harry and the rest of the first year boys went to the dorm room. Clearwater talked forever, so Harry was extremely tired – also, he and Draco were up early this morning. Trying to block out the other boys in the room talking about their families.

"My mom brings me to a different restaurant each year for my birthday. This year, she took me to this restaurant in Italy. It was wicked!"

"My family gets cousins and other relatives together for all me and my siblings’ birthdays. The parties are always big. It’s great!"

They continued that way for at least an hour with Harry trying to block them out. He didn’t want to hear how happy everyone’s family was; it just reminded him that he never knew his, besides from Severus. Growing up with the Dursey’s taught him not to wish for something he could never have.

But, he had magic, now, right? He could have those things, if he worked on it.

A spell. That’s what he needed. Listening to everyone in the room and hoping they were asleep, he got up and quietly dug through his trunk. Finding the two books he needed, he snuck down the to common room. Looking around, he saw no place where he could privately do a spell, so that meant he had to sneak out and find one of the abandoned classrooms.

The problem was sneaking out. He didn’t want to get caught, so that meant he would need a spell that would either make him invisible or make it so people didn’t pay attention to him. Only problem there was that he didn’t know any of those, so he opted for sneaking through the portrait very quietly, hoping that no one caught him.

Thankfully, he got down the stairs and through the corridor to the third floor and ran into one of the rooms a few doors down from the charms classroom.

"Lumos," he said pointing his wand at the darkness once he closed the door. Sitting down on the empty but slightly dusky floor, he opened the runes book to the spell casing. Next, he opened the book on spell writing. Carefully, he took the chalk he brought and drew the runes he needed in a circle around him.

Harry wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. He knew the premise of the type of spell he was going to try, but he had no idea if it was going to work because the only spells he knew were from Severus. Severus, as much as he knew, wasn’t very fond of rune work, so he couldn’t teach him much about it. He said that was Camstar’s and Ramla’s job, not his.

When the runes were set up, Harry thought about what exactly it was that he wanted. It didn’t take much thinking. He wanted to know what it would have been like to live with his mother, to have known her. To have grown up with her. And Severus. As nice as it was living with Severus now, he missed out on years – his entire life – knowing his family. He wanted to change that.

Harry knew this was a long shot; there was very little chance that it would work, and that it wouldn’t bring his mother back to life, but whatever could happen, it was worth the chance.

With that in mind, he worked on the spell. It was all intention, so he wasn’t worried much about what it would say. When he finished, he read it over. It’s going to have to do, Harry thought. Quietly, he read it out loud and kept thinking about his mother, willing the spell to work.

SssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSss

Harry woke up wrapped tightly in warm blankets. His first thought was that he was happy. His second was that the spell didn’t work.

"Silas," Harry heard a soft voice from across the room. "Time to wake up." Harry was definitely awake now, but the blankets were too tight to move very far. That didn’t matter, because the owner of the voice picked him up and gave him a small hug.

"Mom!" Harry said, surprised.

"Shh, Silas, your father’s home. Remember, you promised to be quiet, right? I don’t want him hurting you."

Harry nodded slowly before realizing that he was being held, which didn’t seem right. He was eleven! Looking at his hands, though, he realized that they were not the hands of an eleven year old. They were much smaller. Realizing that his spell worked, he smiled and gave his mother another hug. He didn’t know how long this was going to last, so he was going to make the most of it.

"Are you hungry, baby?" she asked, and Harry couldn’t help but note the sadness in her voice. Trying to ignore that and cheer her up, he nodded and gave her yet another smile. "I’ll go get you some food. Stay in here and play until I get back, okay?"

"Okay," Harry answered as his mom put in down on a blanket on the floor. She gave him a toy car and left the room. When she left, Harry looked around for a mirror to see what he looked like but found none. Sighing, Harry played in the small red toy car. After what seemed like forever, Harry started getting worried and more hungry, and was tempted to go find out what was going on when the door banged opened, causing him to jump.

"Tobias, please, he’s just child. I need to get him food."

"He’s a magical child, I know it. He’ll end up just like Severus. Grown up doing those evil things!" the man said, and Harry sat there in shock. He assumed it was his father, but he looked nothing like Severus. "And it’s your fault," Tobias said angrily, turning to Eileen. "You raised him with that dark magic you are so fond of."

"You know there is nothing evil about the dark arts, Tobias. It’s only evil if you use it for evil," Eileen said back, just as angry as Tobias.

"Which is exactly what he is doing!"

"You don’t know that. And you don’t know that Silas is magical. And if he is, there are spells that I can perform to make him a muggle. You don’t know what you are talking about right now. You are drunk."

"Do not accuse me, you witch, and get away from the boy," growled Tobias, and Harry stood up as quickly as his small body would allow, sensing the danger. He knew there was a door to a bathroom behind him, but he didn’t know if there was another door inside it. He didn’t like how his father was acting toward him or his mother right now, and he was starting to get scared.

Just as Eileen went to grab Tobias’ hand, someone from behind picked in him. Startled, Harry tried to get away, but the arms held him tight.

"What are you doing here?" snapped Tobias, looking at the person who grabbed Harry. Harry tried to wiggle around to see who it was, but again, the hold was too tight. Too tight to be comfortable.

"I’ve come to pick up Silas. Apparently, you have no wish for him to be around today," sneered Severus, and Harry sighed. It was his brother. He was safe. Feeling better, he relaxed, and so did Severus’ grip enough for him to turn around and give him brother a hug.

"I have no wish for him to ever be around," growled Tobias. "And even less wish for him to be with you."

"I called Severus, Tobias," Eileen said. "He’s going to babysit Silas for awhile."

"I don’t want that sick son of yours taking care of the boy."

"Tobias, you were going to hurt him . . ."

"And when did you contact him?" snapped the father.

"About ten minutes before you came in here," Eileen spat back. "I know how you get when you are drunk, and I do not want Silas around when you are like this."

"I agree," Severus said with anger. "Now, Father, if you don’t want me to hurt you, you will leave so I can everything I am going to need for my brother." Harry choose then to look behind him, away from Severus’ shoulder. Severus was pointing his wand at Tobias. Looking at Severus, Harry could tell that he was angry. Harry choose to go back to hugging his brother; he felt better when he did.

Tobias must have left because Eileen took Harry from Severus arms and have him a hug.

"Someday, he’ll pay," Severus said angrily.

"Severus," Eileen sighed. "You know why he’s like this."

"He would have hurt Silas, Mother," Severus snapped. "You know you would not be able to stop him. You don’t even have your wand with you!"

"You know he doesn’t like magic."

"Then why do you stay with him?" snapped Severus, and Harry looked into his eyes. There was so much hatred there, it cause Harry’s eyes to start watering. He went back to hugging his mother, unable to stop the tears. "Silas," he heard his brother say softly, and Harry shook his head, refusing to look at his brother. "Silas, I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, you know that. But that man makes me angry."

"Severus, just get his things together," Eileen said, comforting Harry. What Harry wanted now was for the spell to end. This was in no way what he was expecting, nor what he wanted. He wanted something happy, and this was definitely not happy. If Severus’ dangerous look wasn’t enough cause to cry, the situation was. His father wanted to hurt him.

"Silas, baby, you okay?" he heard his mom asked, and Harry didn’t answer. Spell end, spell end, he kept repeating to himself. No luck. "Take care of him, Severus."

"Take care of that man," Severus spat.

"That man is your father," Eileen said harshly.

"Why do you defend him?" The mother didn’t answer. She didn’t know why she defended Tobias. "I thought so. You know how to contact me if you need me. I won’t bring Silas back until you say it’s safe. And it better be safe."

"Okay," Eileen nodded. "You won’t be near the muggle world?"

"Of course not," sneered Severus.

"Baby?" Harry looked at his mother. "You’ll be safe with Severus. Behave now, okay?" Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. "Bye, baby. Soon you soon." She kissed him on the forehead before handing him to Severus.

"Is he always this silent?" Severus asked.

"Yes," Eileen said. "He’ll talk when he feels safe."

"Which is how often here?"

"Whenever your father isn’t here," she answered, feeling slightly embarrassed as her oldest son glared at her.

"Say goodbye to Mother, Silas," Severus said, and Harry gave her a wave before they disapparated.

Where they apparated to was a place outside a house Harry had never been before, but it seemed familiar. He figured that if this spell really happened, he probably had been here before on similar occasions.

But right now, he didn’t care. He wanted this spell to end. It couldn’t last forever, could it? And in his current body and knowledge, he had no way of getting himself out of this situation. So he needed help, which would be Severus. But would his brother believe him? Harry decided to keep quiet about it for a little bit. Maybe the spell would just . . . stop.

Inside the building, Harry looked around at all the people walking through the corridors with interest. They all seemed to be walking around with intent, kind of like Unc–Vernon’s work. Harry wondered if this was where Severus worked. The spell probably changed stuff like that.

"The kid again, Severus?"

"Yes."

"What . . ."

"Don’t ask," Severus snapped, and the asker glared at Severus, making Harry nervous.

"Fine. But he better not interfere with tonight."

"You know I cannot be involved with tonight, anyway. If I’m caught, it would compromise my position."

"You just don’t like raids," sneered the other man.

"You’re right. I don’t. And the Dark Lord knows it. It doesn’t matter because I have important work to do. There is a reason I’m a higher rank than you." The man glared again, and Harry hugged Severus. Harry could tell they didn’t like each other and he hoped there wasn’t going to be a fight or anything. He was glad when Severus walked up a nearby staircase and into one of the rooms on the floor.

"Are you okay, Silas?" Severus asked, and Harry nodded, despite the fact that he wasn’t. He didn’t know where he was, but he didn’t like it. He wanted to get back to Hogwarts.

"Sev’us?" Harry asked, noting that he had trouble saying the name.

"Yes?"

"Dis is wong," he said.

"What is, Silas?"

"Da spell I cast isn’t stopping."

"What spell?" Severus asked suspiciously. "You’re four. You can’t do spells."

"I’m eyeven!"

SssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSss

"Albus, he’s not waking!" Severus said, angry that Dumbledore wasn’t doing more.

"Severus, Professor Camstar is working on a reversal."

"A reversal? And when were you going to tell me this?"

"As soon as you calmed down," Dumbledore said, smiling. "She figures that he successfully completed the spell, but was not far enough in his education to know that the spell required a time limit. A simple reversal will do."

"Then what is taking so long?" Severus snapped.

"He created a new spell, Severus, a reversal takes time to write."

"He’s eleven. He knows few charms besides lumos!"

"But he’s been studying runes for a couple months now, Severus. You learned much on your own before Hogwarts, did you not?" Dumbledore asked. Severus just glared at the headmaster before stalking out of the room to find Camstar.

SssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSss

"Eleven?" Severus asked glaring at his younger brother as nodded enthusiastically. "How is that possible?"

"I cast a spell!"

"What spell?" Severus asked. Harry could tell that his brother didn’t believe him yet. Telling him the points of the spell should convince him, Harry thought. So Harry told him about the night; why he wanted to do the spell and how he did it. Severus stared at him, calculating, but Harry wasn’t sure whether or not his brother believed him.

"You know me as your brother in this . . . world of yours?" Severus asked flatly, and Harry nodded. "And you are in a room that they will find you in?" Once again, Harry nodded. "Then, if you are telling the truth, they will be able to end the spell for you."

"Sev’us? Do you beyieve me?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Severus answered sadly. "I have to go report your presence to the Dark Lord," he continued, taking a few toys out of a bag for Harry to play with. "Can I trust you to behave yourself?"

"Yes," Harry said, blushing.

"Really? Because you didn’t seem to behave when you were eleven. If I were your brother in this other world, I would yell at you as soon as you got back. Behave," Severus said sternly, then left the room. Not so happy with this Severus anymore, Harry looked sadly at the toys placed on the bed in front of him.

SssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSssSss

Slowly, Harry woke up, but not as comfortable as last time he woke up. Harry opened his eyes to see white and stone all around him.

"Silas," Harry heard, and he turned his head to face his brother.

"Hi, Severus," Harry answered, then he looked at his hands, making sure he was the age he was supposed to be. "I’m eleven, right? We’re at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," his brother said flatly. "Why did you sneak out of your common room and perform an untested spell with no one around in an abandoned classroom?"

"I . . ." Harry looked around to make sure no one was around. "I wanted to know what it would have been like to grow up with mom," he whispered.

"What?" the potions master asked, bewildered.

"Everyone in my dorm was talking about how great it was growing up with their families. I just wanted to know what it would have been like." Severus closed his eyes, appearing to stifle his anger.

"Silas, that was a very stupid thing to do. Was it worth it?"

"No," Harry answered. "He . . . he wanted to hurt me."

"I’m supposing you are talking about Father?" Harry nodded. Severus didn’t answer for awhile.

"I am placing a restriction on your magic," Severus said quietly. "Until I’m sure you know the consequences of doing something like this."

"What?"

"You will be able to do magic in the presence of a professor only. I believed you learned your lesson, but I want make sure. It seems I’ve allowed you too much freedom in learning magic."

"That’s not fair!" Harry said, sitting up.

"I’ve let you learn enough magic on your own. I should have expected you to try something. I did worse at your age. Which is why I’m restricting you. I don’t want to you learn from the type of mistakes I made," Severus said gently, but straightened up as soon as he heard the infirmary door open.

"Did it work, Severus?" Pomfrey asked.

"Yes," he snapped. "He’s fine, and I don’t wish to stay here any longer." Severus indicated that Silas should get up.

"I need to check Mr. Prince over," the mediwitch huffed.

"I told he is fine. I need to go over the details of his punishment before classes start so he doesn’t miss his first day, and he has yet to get into his school robes." Pomfrey thought for a second, then nodded, obviously angry at the intrusion. As it was, Harry would rather stay in the hospital wing than face his brother’s anger.

Severus led him to the Ravenclaw tower and Harry flinched when his brother cast a charm on him.

"Go get dressed. Your classmates should be getting up about now."

"Wait!" Harry said as Severus turned to leave. "How did you know where I was if no one is awake yet?"

"There are wards around the castle that notify professors of situations like these. Now go. And behave." That brought back the memory of the other Severus, causing Harry to laugh. "Is that such a funny concept?"

"No!" Harry defended. "It’s just, that’s exactly how you said it . . . or the other you, anyway." Severus gave him a look, and Harry looked away. He knew he’d eventually mess up with Severus. Entering the common room, Harry headed up to get dressed.

Down in the Entrance Hall, Draco was waiting for him.

"I’ve been waiting forever," Draco said, nodding to Stephan. "Come sit with me."

"Is that allowed?" asked Stephan, and Draco shrugged.

"It wouldn’t make that much of a difference, even if it wasn’t. Silas is Uncle Severus’ brother."

"True," smiled Stephan.

"Severus isn’t that happy with me right now," Harry said. "So I don’t think I should chance anything."

"What did you do? Did you even see him yesterday?"

"This doesn’t have anything to do with you sneaking out last night, does it?" Stephan asked, and Harry glared at him.

"You what? Why would you do that?" Draco asked.

"I’ll tell you guys when we sit down," he answered, dragging his two friends into the Great Hall, avoiding looking at the head table. All three of them sat down at the end of the Slytherin table farthest away from the head table and Harry told them about last night.

"I’m sorry, Silas," Stephan said, and Harry gave him a confused look.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we were talking last night . . ." he trailed off.

"That doesn’t matter. It’s just . . . he’s really mad at me right now." Harry noticed Draco look at the head table.

"He’s not angry at you, Silas. Trust me, he got really mad at me once when I was younger and I was staying with him. I couldn’t sit for days."

"He spanked you?" Stephan laughed, and Harry had to smile at how red Draco got.

"I did not just say that."

"Yes, you did," Harry said, unable to stop laughing.

"Great," the Slytherin mumbled. "But look, he’s not angry, Silas. If he was, you’d know it. He has trouble holding back his temper when he gets really angry. You just haven’t known him long enough."

"I guess," Harry said, in a somber mood once again, deciding he wasn’t hungry. Once Flitwick came around with the timetables, Harry excused himself, got his stuff from the Ravenclaw tower, and went to his first class.

Classes that day went fine. Harry was glad that he didn’t have potions, though, because he didn’t think he could handle being in class with his brother today. He knew what Severus meant, kind of, about having too much freedom with magic, but he felt he disappointed him. That was why Harry was surprised when he ran into Severus after dinner.

"Stay in my rooms tonight," he said, and Harry followed him to the dungeons. "Silas . . ." Severus started when they got to the sitting room in his rooms, and Harry looked expectantly at him. "Never mind," he ended up saying. "Do you have homework?"

"Some reading, but I did them when I got the books, so that’s done."

"Good. A game of chess?"

"Sure," Harry said, brightening up.

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Severus watched Silas as the boy contemplated where to move next. He wasn’t excellent at chess, but he’d get better with more practice.

He knew Silas thought he was angry at him, and to a point, he was. He was more scared than anything, though. Silas was brought up with less support than he was. Severus cared about his mother, but she was very lax when it came to raising children. It was why Severus knew so much about the Dark Arts; Eileen didn’t care what he learned. She always felt that knowledge about the darker side of magic was good, but she didn’t even think that Severus would join the side of the dark. Severus didn’t want Silas to make those mistakes.

As much as he wanted to tell Silas this, he couldn’t. It would bring up too many questions. And most of the questions, he didn’t want to answer to his younger brother. He didn’t want Silas to know most of his dark past.

Harry was excited; Severus was taking off his magic restrictions! It took an entire term for his older brother to finally relent, though, and that was only after Harry wrote up a very detailed argument about why he should be able to do magic without a professor’s supervision. And it wasn’t because Severus didn’t trust Harry to not do anything dangerous. The older wizard had already admitted that he knew Harry wouldn’t, but the man still kept the restrictions in place.

Harry ran through many reasons for this, and he came up with a few that seemed reasonable. One, Severus liked having that kind of control of his little brother. Two, Severus liked his little brother’s company. When studying, Harry would usually go to Severus’ office or rooms because he often needed to practice spells, and most of the time, they would end the day with a board or card game of some sort. Whatever the reason, though, Harry wasn’t told.

And as if waiting an entire term wasn’t enough, he was going to have to wait until tomorrow morning, when term had officially ended and most the students had already gone home.

"Silas!" Stephan yelled from across the table, pulling Harry out of his daydreams. "Hello! What are you thinking about that takes up all your concentration. You’re not planning something, are you?"

"No," Harry answered. "I’m not. Just thinking about how, tomorrow morning, I’ll be able to use magic whenever I want again."

"Oo, the excitement," laughed Su Li. "Snape is finally cutting the leash."

"Oh, shut up," grumbled Harry, and the first year Ravenclaws around him laughed. After Harry’s wrongly done spell, everyone seemed to know about it and always brought it up. Well, those who talked to him, which was mostly just his dormmates, a few other first year Ravenclaws, and a few first year Slytherins.

Harry still had trouble talking to other kids his age. With Stephan’s help, though, he got up the courage to talk freely with his dormmates and others that hung around him. Su was one of those who Harry found he could talk easily with, but she loved teasing. Harry hated that, but she rarely let up, much to his embarrassment.

But she, along with those few others, were friends, and Harry was going to do his best to hang on to them, even if it meant putting up with teasing. Because of Dudley, he never had friends before, so teasing was fine, as long as they weren’t being mean about it.

"Anyone going to eat the biscuit over there? No? Silas, hand it here," Su ordered, and Harry complied, rolling his eyes.

"I’m going to the tower. I’m tired," Harry said, standing up and grabbing his book bag. "If I don’t see any of you before you leave, bye."

"More like excited," Stephan said, and Harry shrugged as he walked off. In his room, he dropped his bag off on his bed and went into the bathroom, shutting the door tightly behind him, wishing for a private bathroom like the one at his house. He didn’t like the public bathrooms very much.

Quickly, Harry took a shower and dressed in his pajamas before standing in front of the mirror. It was so weird how just a few months ago he was an entirely different person. He had to admit that he still expected to look in the mirror and see his green eyes staring back at him, instead of his dark brown eyes. Or to wake up and find out that it was all a very long dream and he was still at the Dursley’s.

But he didn’t, much to his pleasure. It meant that for once in his life, something was going his way.

"No way," Harry heard Stephan say behind him, and Harry turned around quickly, wondering what happened.

"You’re . . . you’re him!" Stephan said, and it took a second for Harry to understand what he meant. Once glance in the mirror told Harry everything; his hair was wet and brushed away from his forehead; his lightning-shaped scar was showing. "I knew he was supposed to be in Hogwarts, and here you are!"

Harry thought quickly. It seemed pointless to deny it, and it wasn’t as if Stephan could tell anybody, since Severus put it under the Fidelius charm.

"I am . . . kinda . . . but I don’t want anyone to know," Harry finally said, and Stephan gave him a weird look as Harry combed his hair to cover his forehead.

"Why not? You’re famous! You could have anything you want!"

"But I already have everything I want," Harry replied, getting nervous. Stephan couldn’t tell anyone, but there was probably other ways for him to let others know he was Harry Potter. Like showing his scar. Harry made a quick mental note to ask Severus if there was a way to actually hide it, like under a charm or something.

"I still think you should let people know," Stephan finally answered. "I won’t tell anyone; you’re my friend, but just think about it, Sil-Harry."

"My name is Silas," Har-Silas said with conviction. "Harry Potter doesn’t exist anymore, and I don’t want him to. You have to try to understand."

"Sorry," Stephan said. "But it’s just kinda weird, you know?"

"I know," Silas agreed. "It is. But I’m not Harry. I’m Silas, and that isn’t going to change. It’s a long story . . ."

"Tell me some other time," his friend said. "Some people are going to start coming up soon." Silas nodded, glad that Stephan understood. "Who else knows? Snape, right?"

"And Dumbledore, Draco, and his family," Silas replied. "I’m tired, so I’m going to bed."

"You can’t be tired. It’s early. They’re starting a small chess tournament down in the common room. Go join; you’re good."

"Not really . . ." Silas said slowly, thinking about his games with his brother. He never could win.

"Yes, you are really good. I bet you’ll beat them all."

"I don’t know . . ."

"Please, Silas? You can’t go to bed now. It’s not even eight, and I’m going to be gone for the entire break! And you can’t tell your story to me now, so you have to."

"Fine," Silas relented, still just wanting to go to bed so he could wake up and make Severus take off the magic restriction. Satisfied, Stephan dragged his friend out of the bathroom and down into the common room, where several chessboards were being set up. Silas put his name down on the sign up list, finding he was the youngest to join.

"Okay, here are the rules," said one of the seventh year prefects. "Since we have a limited amount of time, each game will be limited to fifteen minutes. Points will be rewarded by several factors, including pieces taken, pieces on the board, and a probability of winning if a game isn’t finished. Winner of each game will go on to play the next, and the loser is out of the tournament. Got it?" Everyone nodded, and the prefect looked at the two Ravenclaws were who pulling names out of a bag and writing them down.

"Ready," one of them said after a few minutes. "Ten games to start off with . . ." Silas listened for his name to be called and he inwardly groaned when he was paired with a fourth year.

Twenty minutes later, he was surprised to learn that he won the game. It was a close call, since he only had a few more points than his opponent, but it meant that he was still in the tournament. Maybe this won’t be so bad, Silas thought while he waited to learn who the next game would be against. It was a third year girl.

Silas was quick to learn she wasn’t that good; she didn’t look forward into the game. She only looked to be paying attention to her current move, and Silas used that to his advantage. Right before the judges called time, Silas had her in check. It wasn’t checkmate, but it was a definite win for this tournament.

He was the lucky one to sit out of the next round, since there were an uneven number of opponents, but he spent the time sitting off to the side of the common room thinking instead of watching the games. Silas was having fun while he was playing the game, but now that he wasn’t playing, he really just wanted to leave.

The next game Silas played, which was against a sixth year, he almost lost. Almost. In fact, it was only by chance that he didn’t: his opponent didn’t have the time to make his final move, leaving Silas one point ahead of the sixth year. After that game, it was the final round; him against a seventh year prefect. A really good chess player. Not as good as Severus, but he still put Silas in check after a little over ten minutes. If the game had gone on for five more minutes instead of three, it probably would have been the only game to have a finished with a checkmate.

Still, Silas had gained the attention of both the younger and the older students who were in the common room. He had beat three opponents that were years older than him, placing him second in the tournament. After he was given a makeshift trophy, obviously made by one of the older students by transfiguration, Silas was told that they had this tournament three times a year, at the end of each term, and that he should practice for the next one because he’d probably win.

Now excited by this revelation (that he really was decent at chess), Silas wanted to go to the dungeons and tell Severus, but now he really was tired and opted to go to bed, putting his first-ever trophy atop his trunk. By this time, he had totally forgotten that Stephan knew he was the Boy Who Lived, and he fell off into a comfortable slumber.

The next morning, Silas woke up early, but was immediately assaulted by Stephan. After a few seconds and a glare from his friend, Silas realized that Stephan probably wanted to hear about the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing before he went home for the holiday. Reluctantly, Silas got dressed and let his friend drag him to a small study room connected to the common room.

"Well?" the boy whispered loudly. "How is it that you are the Boy Who Lived?" Taking his own time to glare at his friend, Silas thought about how to start.

"My mother hid me with the Potters when I was born," Silas decided to say, earning a confused look from Stephan.

"Why?"

"So my father wouldn’t hurt me, I guess," he answered glumly. "I didn’t know I wasn’t a Potter until a few months ago when my mother died, and Severus took custody of me."

"So, Snape didn’t know, either?"

"No."

"Weird. So, Harry Potter doesn’t really exist," Stephan said with awe. "Wow."

"Didn’t I say that already?" Silas said, and Stephan shrugged.

"Thanks for telling me. I should pack, though. Most of my stuff is still around the room and my parents would be mad if I missed the train."

"Okay," Silas answered, looking at the clock for the time. "Draco should be in the Great Hall by now. He’s excited about going back home, and he can’t sleep when he gets excited. I’ll see you down there."

"Alright," Stephan agreed, and they both left the common room in opposite directions. Silas was right in guessing that Draco was in the Great Hall already. When Silas entered, he was looking at the door to the Great Hall as if he were expecting someone. Apparently, it was Silas.

"Where have you been?" Draco asked. "I’ve been down here for half an hour already, waiting for you."

"Well, sorry I don’t have my schedule set to yours, Draco. I do need to sleep, you know," Silas answered, annoyed with Draco’s attitude. Not that his attitude was unusual.

"That’s okay," Draco answered, seemingly unaware of Silas’ sarcastic attitude. "Mother wants you to visit some time during the holiday."

"I’ll ask Severus," Silas answered, sitting down at the Slytherin table.

"So, exciting day today, huh?" Draco asked. "You get your magic back."

"My magic was never taken away, Draco," Silas answered flatly. "It was just restricted."

"Bad enough."

"Yeah, but there is still a difference." Silas looked at the table and wished that they served food this early. He thought about stopping by the kitchens, but decided he’d go to find Severus. His brother was usually up this early.

"I’m going to bug Severus. I’ll see you later."

"You’re just going to leave me here with nothing to do?" Draco asked, bewildered.

"What were you doing before?"

"Waiting for you, of course."

"Do you want to come along?" Silas asked.

"No, I’ll go wake up Crabbe and Goyle or something. I’ll see you later."

"Bye," Silas replied and left at a run. He made it to Severus’ rooms at record speed, gasping for breath outside the door before he let himself in to find Severus sitting in a chair, reading.

"We need to talk," Silas said, and his older brother closed the book he was reading and gave Silas an odd look. "We need a better way to hid my scar. Stephan saw it after my shower, and he knows now. Also, I came in second in the chess tournament we had in the common room last night!"

"One topic at a time, Silas," Severus reprimanded.

"Sorry. I just didn’t want to forget," he shrugged. He could tell Severus was thinking.

"I wonder if a concealing charm would work. Mind you, it wouldn’t be permanent; it would have to be reapplied every so often. Maybe every week . . ." Brushing aside the hair from Silas’ forehead, Severus took out his wand and incanted something he didn’t understand. "That should work. I don’t know why I didn’t use it before."

Before Severus could say anything else, Silas ran to the bathroom to check his forehead. Sure enough, the scar wasn’t entirely hidden, but you could only tell if you looked closely and you knew it was there already. Silas had to be a few inches from the mirror before he could see it. Satisfied, he went back to where he left Severus. The older wizard was getting ready to leave.

"Where are you going?" Silas asked.

"Breakfast. Come along."

"What about my magic?"

"I said we will work on that after the students leave," Severus answered flatly, opening the door.

"Fine," Silas said, earning a glare from his older brother for being rude about it. Choosing not to say anything more about it, Silas followed Severus to the Great Hall.

After breakfast and saying goodbye to his friends, Silas, glad that his brother waited for him, followed Severus back to his rooms, excited.

"First, congratulations on the chess tournament," Severus said, and Silas beamed. It wasn’t every day that Severus congratulated anybody on anything. "Now, what have we talked about your magic use?"

"No using Dark spells," Silas started listing, remembering the long lectures on the subject. "No making up spells without a qualified adult. No learning new spells and charms without a qualified adult. No using charms I don’t know well alone."

"Good. Can I trust you to follow these rules?"

"Yes!" Silas said. "Come on, please? I’ve been really good."

"I suppose you have. Despite that detention two weeks ago," Severus said sternly.

"You know what I mean. Please?" Silas nearly begged. He was happy when Severus waved his wand, causing Silas to feel a tingling throughout his body, telling him that he now was free to practice magic without an adult. "Thank you!" he said, giving Severus a hug. He felt Severus tense, as usual, at the physical contact.

"Why do you do that?" Silas asked, stepping back.

"Do what?"

"Get all stiff when I hug you? Do you not want me to?"

"I am not used to it," Severus answered after a minute.

"Sorry," Silas said, looking down at his feet.

"Do not be," said his older brother, squeezing his shoulder. "Sit down."

"You know, in that dream I had, when I did that spell, I think you took care of me a lot. I was real quiet and wasn’t allowed out of my room, I don’t think. That day, anyway. I was playing, waiting for Mother to bring me food, when Father came it. He wanted to hurt me, then you came in and picked me up. Mother said she called you. Then you brought me to this building, where I think you lived or worked. I didn’t recognize it, yet it seemed familiar, so I think, in that reality, I’ve been there a lot. Then there was this mean man that you didn’t like, and he was talking about some raid or something. Then you went to go tell the Dark Lord that I was there."

Severus had sat down during Silas’ speech, and didn’t speak immediately after Silas finished. He seemed to be thinking, but Silas wanted to know what he thought about the ‘dream’. Both Silas and Severus avoided talking about the affects of the spell before this, so Severus didn’t know the full details of what happened to his younger brother there.

"How old were you?" Severus finally asked

"Four," Silas answered, and his brother nodded. "Severus, are you one of the Dark Lord’s followers?"

"You can’t follow someone whose dead, Silas," Severus answered. "Do I seem like someone who hates muggles?"

"No . . ." Silas said slowly. "Mostly."

"There are also a lot of wizards I don’t like. I do not dislike someone because of what they are."

"Okay," he said, still not completely understanding the answer. He decided to change the subject. "Draco said Aunt Cissy wants me to visit sometime. Is that okay?"

"Yes. I will contact her and we will discuss it."

"Thank you."

"Do you have any friends staying for the holiday?"

"Well, no first years. Two third years from my Ancient Runes class want to study ahead, though, so we’re going to be working on that. I was actually hoping that I’d – I would be able to meet some more first years from other houses," Silas said, correcting himself. "I really don’t know anyone from houses besides Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

"I see," Severus answered, and Silas sighed. "What?"

"I miss the telly," Silas answered, getting a small laugh from his brother.

"Why?"

"And stuff like muggle story books. There’s not a whole lot of books for kids my age in the wizard world that are just . . . for fun."

"I thought you had some novels."

"I do," replied Silas, "and they’re good, but they are not for someone my age."

"I’ll look into it," Severus said. "And perhaps I’ll see what is at the playhouse at Hogsmede," and Silas got a big smile on his face.

"Thanks, Severus. Wait, there’s a playhouse in Hogsmede?"

"I did say that, did I not? I did not mention it before because children are usually not interested in the theater. Neither am I, for that fact," he continued, and Silas laughed. "But I have an end-of-term meeting in an hour that I have to prepare for, so if you excuse me," the older wizards said, and Silas shrugged.

"Okay. I’ll talk to you later," he replied, receiving a nod from Severus as he left.

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"Hello, Silas," Silas was greeted as he came through the floo at the Malfoy Manor.

"Hi, Uncle Lucius," Silas replied.

"Narcissa took Draco to get him a new set of dress robes for a Christmas party we were recently invited to. They should be back within an hour."

"Okay," Silas said as a house elf took his cloak, and he looked sadly at the spot where it popped away. Silas still thought the house elves very weird, but he also felt bad for them. Draco, Severus, and everyone else said they were fine with it; that they liked it, but even Harry Potter was fine with being a freak before he learned otherwise. They probably just didn’t know any better.

"Let’s have some tea and talk," Lucius said, leading Silas to one of the smaller "talking rooms" (as Draco called them) on that floor. It was one that Silas hadn’t seen before, but he took an automatic liking to it. It was painted a warm green color and had two darker green, comfortable chairs. Silas especially liked the chairs; the one he sat in shrunk to fit to his small size so he could put his feet on the floor instead of having them dangle of the edge. It made him feel better. A house elf popped in, delivering tea, then popped out again before Silas could say thank you.

"Have you been enjoying Hogwarts, Silas?" Lucius asked, and he nodded after he swallowed a sip of his perfect temperature (although not-so-great-tasting for an eleven year old) tea.

"It’s fun. Classes are a little slow, though, especially since I read everything before classes started."

"So, I expect you are at the top of your class?"

"I think I’m close," Silas answered, not really sure. "I do really well on all assignments."

"I’m sure. You’re a very smart boy. Congratulations on getting into Ravenclaw. I had a feeling that you would."

"Thank you," Silas answered, not bothering to tell his godfather that the Sorting Hat said he would do well in any of the four houses.

"You are fitting well into the wizarding world?"

"Yes, sir. It is still kind of weird, though. You can do so many more things in the wizarding world than in the muggle world, and I forget that sometimes, even in class."

"I suppose you would. And, yes, muggles are far behind. I don’t believe they will ever find ways to do most of the things magic can do," Lucius said with a stuck up air.

"They have a lot of things that wizards haven’t thought of, though. Like computers, and the telly. I miss those kind of things."

"You’ll forget about them soon enough, as soon as you learn more about the magical world, Silas," Lucius said kindly but harshly, as if he thought speaking of those things were wrong.

"Do you hate muggles, Uncle Lucius?" Silas asked, although he was sure he knew the answer already.

"As long as they stay away from the wizarding world, I suppose they are fine. As long as they stay away. We don’t want them ruining the pure wizarding lines."

"Some of them are real nice, though . . ."

"Have you ever had any muggle friends, Silas?"

"Well, no . . ." he answered slowly, understanding but not believing what his godfather was saying. Just because the muggles that knew the Dursleys weren’t nice, didn’t mean that all muggles were like that. Even Severus agreed with that. Silas was glad when Lucius dropped the subject.

"Have you seen much of the child, the one who speaks parseltongue?"

"Yeah!" Silas said. "I see him at least twice a week. More, now that it’s the holidays. It’s getting much better with English, now."

"Do you know if the father speaks parseltongue?"

"I don’t know. If he does, he has never spoken it. Even when I talk to William, he doesn’t look as if he knows what he are saying. Why?"

"Parseltongue as always interested me," Lucius answered, taking a sip of his tea.

"Father?" Silas heard from the corridor, and he and Lucius looked toward the door.

"Well, there’s Draco. Go have some fun, and I will see you at dinner."

"Okay!" Silas said, putting down his tea cup, ready for the three days he was staying with the Malfoys. It would have been longer, but they were going abroad, so he couldn’t stay any longer than that.

"Hi, Draco!" Silas said, leaving the small room.

"Silas! It’s been forever!"

"It’s been two weeks," Silas pointed out.

"Yes, but that’s the longest we’ve been away from each other since we met."

"True," he said, smiling. "What do you want to do?"

"Fly," Draco said immediately, and both boys ran to find their brooms.

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A week later, Silas sat on his bed in Severus’ rooms, thinking to the next day. He was nervous and excited. And scared. It would be his first Christmas with Severus, and he had no idea what it was going to be like. He knew what Christmases were like at the Dursley’s; Dudley would open more presents than he would get for his birthday, while Harry Potter sat on the floor in the corner of the room and watched.

He didn’t know what to expect with Severus. Amazingly, Severus put up a small Christmas tree and let Silas decorate it, but there was no hints as to what was going to happen on Christmas day. Was Silas going to get presents to open? Did he have to wake up at a certain time? Was he supposed to have gotten Severus something?

He really hoped he wasn’t supposed to, because he didn’t. Kids weren’t supposed to get presents for the adults, right? But Severus was not only his guardian, but his brother. Did that change things?

Now, worrying himself sick, Silas was no longer tired, but he forced himself under the covers and cuddled up with the blankets.

He must have fallen asleep eventually because when he woke, it was light out. Almost forgetting about his nervousness the night before, Silas jumped out of bed and ran to the room where the tree was, still in his pajamas. He was awestruck at the number of presents that were stacked neatly under and around the tree.

Quietly as he could, Silas knelt beside the presents and looked them over. Sure enough, they all had his name on. Most of them were wrapped the same way and had his name neatly written on them, but some others were wrapped differently and has not only his name, but the name of who they were from. Silas was glad that he had gotten a present for everyone who got him one.

Silas continued to sit next to the presents quietly, not wanting to wake up Severus. He did his best to count them without moving them, in case he got in trouble for doing so, but he had trouble counting the ones under the small tree. Of all the annoying things, this was the one day that Severus decided to sleep in longer than usual.

"You can have woken me up, if you were so eager to open your presents," Severus said, walking into the room an hour later, dressed. "I half expected you to do so."

"I didn’t want to make you mad," Silas answered blushing and earning an odd look from his brother.

"You’ve woken me up before," Severus said, and Silas shrugged. "These are all for you, in the case you haven’t figured that out. There are more here than there will be in coming years because this is our first Christmas together."

"I wasn’t supposed to get you anything, was I?" Silas asked slowly, scared as to what the answer was going to be.

"Do you have any money to get me anything?" Severus asked, shaking his head, and Silas let out a relieved laugh.

"No."

"I didn’t think so. Now, start opening your presents so you can get dressed and we can eat a small breakfast. There is a feast later for those who stayed at Hogwarts."

Silas smiled and turned to his presents and was with left with another dilemma: where was he going to start?

Forty-five minutes later, Silas had all his presents unwrapped and organized. There were a lot of books, most of which Severus said the cashier at the muggle bookstore suggested for an eleven year old. Others were on magical topics or were wizard novels. In addition to that, Severus even got Silas a small television for his room during the summer. They lived in a muggle neighborhood, despite the old-style way of the town, so there were places to put the television in. And there was more, besides.

Happy, Silas gave Severus a hug and was happy to find that his older brother didn’t tense up this time.

"Thank you, Severus! This was the best Christmas ever!"

"You’re welcome. Now, put your new things away and get dressed so we can eat."

"Okay," Silas said, picking up one of the piles of books and bringing them to his room, hoping that things would stay this good forever.

"Silas!" Severus called for the third time, getting annoyed. "I need your help!"

"What?" Silas finally replied, coming out of his room holding one of his books from Christmas.

"Do you have your ears plugged, boy? Get your winter clothes on, we’re going outside to get some ingredients," Severus snapped, and Silas looked at his older brother oddly.

"It’s winter. What could be growing at this time of year?"

"Something that I need for a potion that needs to be done today. Before the students arrive. We will be going into the forest, but this time you will be staying with me, as I know the location of this plant."

"Wait," Silas answered slowly. "Forest? The Forbidden Forest? But . . . we’re not allowed in there!"

"You will be with me. Therefore, you are allowed."

"But . . . something bad could happen," Silas whispered, unconsciously stepping backwards.

"Nothing will happen, Silas. What is the matter? You were hesitant when I first brought you into a woods. Did something happen before?" Severus asked quietly, but wasn’t paying much attention. He needed to get that potion ingredient within the next two hour, or it would no longer be effective. Preferably within the next hour, since he needed time to brew the potion before the students arrived.

"I . . . I . . ." Silas couldn’t answer, the feelings inside of him all fighting to overcome the others. He couldn’t tell Severus. His brother would be so mad at him, but at the same time, he wanted someone to know. Someone that could help him forget . . .

Without any notice, Silas ran from the living quarters in a panic. He heard Severus call after him, but he didn’t stop. He had to get away; Severus couldn’t know. It would ruin the family he worked so hard for.

Silas didn’t stop until he reached his unexpected destination: the room near the charms classroom where he tried that dream-spell. Trying to calm himself, without much luck, he took notice that the room had been cleaned up after his spell. Grateful that he didn’t have to have any more reminder of that night than the room itself, even though he felt strangely comfortable there, Silas sat in the center of the room, cross-legged.

He tried to relax in the way that Severus showed him, but he couldn’t get his mind off the forest. Silas felt bad for running away from his brother, but he couldn’t go in that forest. The woods near their home seemed fairly safe, and he was still afraid to go in them. But the Forbidden Forest? There was no way anyone was getting him in there.

"Hi. Friends forever, right? You and me?"

Startled, Silas stood up as fast as he could. Seeing who it was, he freaked even more and ran from the room, nearly running over Flitwick. He didn’t notice, though, and kept running even after the Charms professor called for him to stop.

Silas found himself buried under his covers in his room in the Ravenclaw tower, afraid to peek out incase he had followed him. It wasn’t right; he wasn’t supposed to be here. Anywhere, in fact. He was supposed to be dead.

Silas was woken up that evening by Stephan jumping onto his bed. Pushing his friend off the bed, Silas sat up and glared.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"Everyone’s wondering where you are. Snape wants to talk to you. It’s too late now, though. It’s just turned curfew," Stephan said.

"Then why did you wake me? You should have told me in the morning," Silas groaned, flipping the covers back over his head. It was then that the morning’s events came back to him, full force.

I was just imagining it, Silas told himself. He wasn’t real. He wasn’t there. Silas wasn’t sure he believed that, though. The boy sure seemed real. Although, Silas wasn’t able to get a good look at him, so he didn’t notice if he was solid or not.

No longer tired since he slept the entire day, Silas got up and was about to start reading when he remembered he left all his new books in his room in the dungeons. Sighing, he dug through his trunk for his defense book and started reading ahead.

The next morning, Silas hadn’t forgotten the day before. He was tired, since he didn’t sleep all night, but he forced himself down to the Great Hall with Stephan, constantly looking around to make sure the boy wasn’t around. So far, there was no sign of him.

Just my imagination, Silas reminded himself.

By the mid afternoon, Silas was able to convince himself that seeing and hearing the boy was just his imagination, as he had not once seen him again. Walking to charms in a much better mood, he excitedly chatted with Stephan and Su about their holidays.

"I don’t believe that," Su said, responding to Stephan’s explanation about his father’s claim.

"It’s possible, though. It would have to be. There are many magical creatures that we don’t know much about because they never show themselves. The Quibbler . . ."

"That’s a load of bull," Su spat, and Silas listened more closely. He had never heard of the Quibbler before.

"Some of it might be, but there is a lot of real stuff in it," Stephan argued, not willing to back down. "There have been many magical creatures that have been featured in it before, then they were declared real years later."

"Like what?" Silas asked.

"Like Glumbumbles and Demiguises. Demiguises can turn invisible, so at one point, anyone who claimed they saw one were thought mad."

"Just because some of the things in The Quibbler are true, doesn’t make it a reliable source," Su replied airily, and Silas laughed. She just didn’t want to be shown up. Although, since Silas had never heard of the Quibbler, he couldn’t make any judgement on the subject. Instead, he decided to change the subject (slightly).

"So, how did you learn so much about magical creatures?" he asked Stephan.

"My dad is interested in them, so we have a lot of books about them. He really wants me to sign up for Care of Magical Creatures when I get to third year, even though I probably already know everything I would learn in the class."

"I see," Silas replied and stopped talking as Flitwick entered the classroom, dragging along some charmed object that didn’t want to enter the room. It must be for a presentation, Silas guessed while watching with amusement, not noticing the little, see-through boy in the back of the room who was staring curiously at him.

At dinner a few hours later, Silas had completely forgotten about the little boy until Severus came up behind him a requested he come down to the dungeons when he was finished eating. Suddenly nervous as his brother walked out of the Great Hall, Silas pushed his plate away, resting his forehead on his arms.

"What’s wrong?" Stephan asked and Silas sat up and shrugged.

"Nothing," he answered. "He just wanted me to go into the forest with him to get something, but I . . . kinda got scared and ran," he continued, settling for a partial truth.

"Well, nothing wrong with that. It’s not like you’re a Gryffindor or something. Besides, I heard there are werewolves in the forest. And other things that can eat you. I wouldn’t go in."

"It’s not a full moon," Silas pointed out. "No werewolves to eat me. I hope he’s not mad at me."

"Snape mad at you? From what I’ve seen, that doesn’t seem possible. He favors you a lot in class. Even when you messed up that potion, you didn’t get in trouble."

"He didn’t say anything during class about that. Afterwards, though, he almost yelled at me not to experiment in class."

"Wait, you were experimenting?" Stephan asked, surprised.

"Yeah. I already did that potion once before, and I wanted to see what would happen if I added the crushed bowton wings before the aplitice eyes and newt eyes fully reacted with each other, so the wings would react with both types of eyes instead of just the newt eyes. Severus wouldn’t even let me test it, even though I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have done anything bad to the potion. Maybe make it do something a little different, but . . ."

"Right," Stephan said. "I’d get going, if I were you. If he is mad at you, you don’t want him even more mad. Last time he was mad at you, you couldn’t do magic without an adult for months!"

"Yeah, yeah," Silas said. "I’m going. I’ll see you in the common room later. And I’d start reading your charms lesson. I overheard that he was annoyed with our classes’ lack of book reading and is planning on quizzing us on it. There’s a lot of material there."

"How do you hear this things?" Stephan asked, and Silas shrugged again, smirking. The beauty of having a brother as one of your professors.

Silas took his time going to the dungeon, trying to figure out what he was going to say. If he told Severus that he was simply afraid of the forest, and woods in general, his older brother would want to know why, and Silas wasn’t about to relinquish and relive that horrible memory. It was better off forgotten.

Not wanting to lie to Severus, Silas finally decided to refuse to say anything other than he is afraid of the forest. He might get in trouble for refusing to talk, but at least his brother wouldn’t know the truth and send him away, and Silas wouldn’t have to say what happened.

Walking into Severus’ rooms without knocking, he immediately found his brother looking half irritated, half worried.

"Silias, I believe we need to talk," he said, and Silas shrugged stiffly, sitting down on his usual sofa. "Why are you so afraid of the forest? And woods in general?"

Silas shrugged again, refusing to answer truthfully, but unwilling to lie. The two sat in silence for a few minutes before Severus sat down next to his younger brother.

"Did something bad happen in a woods, Silas?" he finally asked, and Silas gave a half-shrug, half-nod as his answer. "Something you wish to share?"

Silas shook his head, relieved that Severus was asking if he wanted to talk about it, but he was still too nervous to talk and afraid that he’d start crying.

"If you are so afraid of the woods, you should talk about it. We could work through that," Severus suggested, and Silas shook his head again.

"Not now," he managed to whisper, noting that Severus nodded slightly. He didn’t noticed that he had started crying until his brother put an arm around him, albeit in a rigid manner. Silas didn’t mind, though. He took the comfort as it was offered, crawling and curling up in his brother’s lap, glad that he was still very small for his age, and didn’t even try to stop the hysteria that was beginning to set in.

Severus held his younger brother, unsure of what else he should do. Silently cursing the Dursleys, he started rubbing Silas’ back, something his mother used to do to him when he was younger. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to get what happened out of the boy unless he used legilimancy on him, something he wasn’t willing to do at this point, he settled on trying to get Silas to stop crying.

It took about half an hour, but eventually, Silas sat up, red-eyed and snotty-nosed, rubbing his eyes.

"Better?" Severus asked, and Silas nodded, looking down at his lap. Now, he felt embarrassed about crying as he did, and he refused to look his brother in the eye. "Good. Go blow your nose and wash up," he said, nudging Silas to get off his lap. Blushing, Silas ran into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. Quietly as he could, he sat down on the floor next to the bath and started running the water.

Sure, he felt better about everything now, but he was still sure that if Severus knew what happened, he wouldn’t be so nice about it. It was partly his fault, after all.

Silas stripped once the bath was filled and gladly submerged himself in the warm water. Fire couldn’t reach you in the water. Right now, it was the one place he felt safe.

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A week later, Silas was woken up by the sound of the other boys in the room getting ready for the day. For a minute, he just listen to them, glad he was here and not at the Dursleys. Even with the problems and fears he had with Severus and the wizarding world, this was heaven compared to what he would be going through with the muggles.

Things were getting back to normal. Severus had stopped asking about his problem with the woods, and Silas had finally stop walking around like a zombie. Since his breakdown in front of Severus, he had been feeling slightly numb, but he was feeling better now. It helped that his friends tried really hard to get him to play with them and stop staring off into the Forbidden Forest.

There also had been no sight of the boy, which made Silas feel better for the most part, but a little bit of him wanted to see him again. It seemed like forever since it happened . . .

"Silas, you up?" Stephan called.

"Yeah," he groaned. "Just trying to get out of bed."

"You want some help?" Stephan laughed, and Silas shook his head, although his friend wouldn’t be able to see it.

"I’ll manage."

"I’m so excited for DADA today!" Stephan answered back, obviously having no intention of helping Silas up anyway.

"Yeah," one of the other boys answered. "A double with Charms class. Did Trimdol say we were meeting in the Charms or Defense classroom?"

"Charms classroom, for both Charms and DADA today," Silas said when nobody answered, finally getting up and getting dressed. "I’m hungry."

"It’s about time. I was thinking you were planning on giving up food, with how much you’ve been eating lately," Stephan teased, and Silas glared at him. Stephan didn’t know why he was so distant for most of the last week, but he assumed something happened between the two brothers, so he was constantly trying to cheer Silas up.

"Let’s just go eat," Silas answered and left, leading the way to the Great Hall.

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An hour later, Silas was the last one to DADA since he forgot his book in his room. Thankful he wasn’t late, he stood in the back of the room with the rest of his Defense class, his heavy bag dropped to the floor, listening to the two professors explain what they were doing that day. It wasn’t that hard, for the most part. The Charm students were going to try to charm an object unbreakable, and the Defense students were to try and break the object.

Trimdol was explaining why this would help them with putting up and breaking shields in later years when Silas felt a small hand grab onto his. He jumped slightly, but he wasn’t very scared when he looked down and saw his friend from six years old standing there, just barely see-through. Silas had thought all week about what he would do if this happened again, so instead of freaking as he did before, he smiled down at the boy before turning his attention back to the professors.

Silas had decided that if Mikey, his ghost friend, was acting friendly, he should act friendly back. After all, they were best friends. Maybe they still could be friends, even if Mikey was a ghost.

After class, Silas was seriously thinking about skipping his next one to talk to his young friend, but he decided against it when he saw that Mikey was following him. The knowledge that Severus would be mad at him if he skipped also aided in that decision. It amazed him that a ghost could seem so solid, though.

During lunch, Silas grabbed a sandwich before telling Draco and Stephan that he was going somewhere quiet to read. They shrugged. It wasn’t unusual for Silas to decide he wanted to read, so they wouldn’t be suspicious of him and decide to follow.

Mikey hadn’t said a word yet, but he indicated that Silas should follow him. They ended up in that same room near the Charms classroom.

"I like it here," Mikey said. "Feels nice."

Silas silently laughed at Mikey’s childish way of talking, wondering if he ever sounded like that, before talking.

"Hi," Silas said.

"We’re friends, right? Best friends? Forever?"

"Forever," Silas answered.

"You look different," Mikey said, tilting his head slightly to one side. "And you’re bigger."

"That’s because I found out that my parents weren’t who I thought I was. And that I’m a wizard."

"I thought you said magic doesn’t exist," Mikey accused.

"I was wrong," he answered sadly. "I was lied to."

"I told you that you couldn’t believe anything they said."

Silas just shrugged, not knowing what to say. He quickly checked the time.

"I have to get to class. Potions. My brother teaches it."

"You have a brother? A teacher?"

"Yeah. I didn’t learn about him until this summer, though. You can come, if you want," he offered.

Mikey looked at him with a confused look before answering with a chipper, "Okay!" Silas didn’t notice that his little friend was no longer see-though.

Silas made it to Potions before the rest of his class, but not before Severus. His older brother greeted him before stopping short, spotting the kid.

"Who is that?" he asked sharply.

"You can see him?" Silas asked, surprised.

"Of course. Who is he?"

"A friend of mine. He . . . he’s . . ." Silas wasn’t able to finish as Stephan came bounding into the room. His friend calmed down after he saw Severus’ glare, though.

"He cannot stay here," Severus said, causing Stephan to give the professor an odd look.

"Who?" the boy asked, looking around. He didn’t see anyone else but them three. Severus didn’t answer immediately, but when he did, it was an unexpected (for Silas) lie.

"Silas wished to bring a snake," he replied.

"Well, that’s good then. Snakes are scary," Stephan said, before sitting down in his usual spot. Silas, after looking between Mikey (who started bouncing up and down) and Severus (who was staring at Mikey), sat down next to his friend and was barely listening to the chatter, while he was trying to figure out why Severus could see Mikey but Stephan couldn’t. Was it because they were related? Even so, that didn’t make much sense.

Taking another glance at Mikey, who was watching Severus set up the classroom with an unreadable expression, Silas noticed that Mikey now looked solid. When did that happen? he wondered, but put it out of his mind to think about later. Students were starting to shuffle in for what they considered another horrible class. Silas laughed, thinking about how they were so afraid of Severus, earning him a raised eyebrow from both Severus and Stephan, and an excited laugh from Mikey.

All during class, Mikey walked around the classroom, fingering everything that he could reach, and Silas was glad that he wasn’t able to actually pick anything up; a side affect of being dead.

It was hard for both Severus and Silas to concentrate during class with Mikey wandering around the classroom, causing Silas to mess up his potion and Severus to be especially mean.

"Stay after class, Mr. Prince," Severus said flatly when everyone was cleaning and putting away their things. After everyone had left, Silas just sat in his seat, looking down at the workbench. He barely noticed when Mikey crawled up onto the table.

Silas did notice, though, and tried to stop him, but his hand went right through the boy’s arm. It wasn’t cold, either, like it would be if one of the Hogwarts ghosts go through someone. It felt like . . . just air.

Severus, seeing this and deciding on something, picked Silas up from under the arms and set the boy, standing, behind him.

"Hey!" Silas yelled, not happy that he was picked up like a little three year old.

"He could be dangerous, Silas."

"No, he’s not," he answered sharply. "He’s my friend. He was the only friend I had while at the Dursley’s. He won’t hurt me."

"Did you conjure him?"

"What? No! He just showed up today. What’s wrong? There are a lot of ghosts around here. What’s another? And besides, he’s my friend!" Silas looked passed Severus at Mikey, who was giving a scared look at Severus, no longer smiling. "He won’t hurt me, will you Mikey?"

"No. You’re my bestest friend, Harry! Now and forever!"

"Yeah," Silas answered, not as enthusiastic as his dead friend.

"And why is it that only you and I can see him? And not transparent. Most ghosts are visible to all."

"I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s a muggle?"

Severus narrowed his eyes slightly, thinking. Eventually, he conceded with a nod, turning his attention on Silas.

"I will be researching this," he said, flatly. "Get to class, or you will be late. I suggest you don’t bring . . . Mikey . . . as he only seems to be able to distract you."

"Fine," Silas grumbled.

"And tell me if anyone else is able to see him."

"Okay. Bye," Silas said, leaving the classroom as quick as he possibly could while making sure Mikey followed.

"Was that your brother?" Mikey asked, and Silas nodded. "He looks like you a little."

"Yeah," Silas answered. "Do you have anywhere to wait while I’m in class? I don’t think the teachers would like it if you are interrupting," he continued, not able to think of any other way to tell the six-year-old that he couldn’t come to Charms with him.

"I’ll go to our room!" Mikey said, jumping up and down.

"Our room?" Silas was confused.

"You know, the one I like a lot," the boy said in a voice that told Silas he should know.

"Oh. Why do you like that room?"

"I . . . think it’s because that’s where I showed up," Mikey answered slowly. "That’s when I first saw you again, although you are different looking. I still know it’s you, because you are my bestest friend, even if you do look funny."

"I don’t look funny!" Silas answered, getting a laugh from Mikey.

"I mean you don’t look like yourself anymore. And bigger. A lot bigger. You must be really old, now! Really, really old!"

"I’m only eleven," Silas pointed out, and Mikey got a scrunched up look on his face.

"Eleven. That’s a lot of years older than me! Like a hundred!"

"Only five," Silas laughed. "I need to get to class, though. I will meet you after class in . . . our room, okay?"

"Okay," Mikey answered, skipping off toward the room near the end of the corridor. Silas sighed before entering the charms classroom.

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"Harry?" Mickey asked. It was about two weeks after Severus met Mikey, and the ghost boy got more and more real as the days went by. Right now, they were on their way to visit Severus.

"Yeah?" he asked, picking Mikey up for a few seconds after making sure no one was around. No matter how solid Mikey got, only he and Severus could still see him. It made things very complicated sometimes.

"How come everyone calls you Silas and not Harry?"

"Because Silas is my real name," Silas answered. "They don’t know I’m Harry."

"Oh," Mikey said, still a little confused. "You should tell them you are Harry." Silas just shook his head, not bothering to explain. There were a lot of things about magic that Mikey just didn’t understand. Laughing when the little boy tried to do a cartwheel, he stopped short when he noticed that where Mikey stepped, he left behind a footprint of fire.

"Ho–how did you do that, Mikey?" Silas stuttered, and Mikey looked at him oddly.

"You taught me how to do a cartwheel, Harry," he said, and Harry shook his head.

"No. The fire-footprints."

"What fire-footprints?" Mikey looked around, but it didn’t seem as if Mikey could see them. Carefully, Silas tried putting one of them out with his foot, but was surprised to find that it wasn’t as hot as a fire should be. It wouldn’t go out.

"Come on, let’s hurry," Silas said immediately, and nearly ran the rest of the way to the dungeon. If Mickey wasn’t following, he would have run.

"Slow down, Silas," Severus said as he barged into the room, Mikey entering a few seconds later. "What . . ." he tried off for a second. "What’s happening?"

"You can see them, too?" Silas asked, glad he wasn’t the only one. "Mikey can’t see them."

"Footprints . . . Silas, I need to talk to you. Alone."

"Okay," Silas nodded, telling Mikey to stay put. He followed Severus through the door that led to Severus’ office, feeling scared. He knew what Severus was going to ask, and he wasn’t willing to say it . . .

Severus closed the door, then warded both doors in the room.

"How did Mikey die?" his older brother asked immediately.

"I . . . I . . . what?" Silas asked, feigning misunderstanding.

"How did Mikey die? What happened?"

"I . . . can’t tell you," Silas said, starting to cry and looking down at the stone floor.

"Can’t or won’t? You must tell me, Silas. Look at me!" Grabbing his chin, Severus made Silas looked at him, and he was too afraid to close his eyes. "I have the ability to look through your memories, if I wish to do so. I do not want to, but if you do not tell me, I will be forced to. Trust me, it is very unpleasant. This is important!"

"I . . . I . . ."

Grabbing Silas, Severus gave his little brother a hug from behind.

"Don’t be afraid to tell me. You won’t get in trouble, I promise," he whispered in Silas’ ear. Just a few moments ago, he was able to put together a few facts and he was sure his guess was close. A dead, six year old friend, afraid of the woods, the footprints of fire . . .

"I . . . when I . . . we were six, we ran away," Silas said, crying hard, unable to keep his sentences straight. "Stayed in the woods. A big fire . . . got too close . . ." Silas couldn’t say anymore before he broke down entirely, unable to support his own weight. Severus could barely make out him muttering "My fault, my fault," over and over again.

"It’s okay, Silas," Severus said, laying the boy on a pile of conjured blankets. "It’s not your fault, I promise, okay?" Not getting a response, no matter how many times Severus repeated that, he settled for flooing the headmaster, and telling him to bring Pomfrey along. Severus suspected that Silas would be going into shock soon, if he wasn’t already.

Within a few minutes, both the headmaster and mediwitch were inside. Madam Pomfrey started working with Silas immediately, and Severus and Dumbledore began talking quietly in a far corner.

"Severus?"

"They boy – ghost – is in my quarters. You won’t be able to see him."

"Perhaps . . ."

Dumbledore didn’t get any further. He noticed Severus’ eyes widened, looking in the direction of the door to his rooms.

Not only was the boy leaving fire-prints, his shoes had started on fire. Mikey was walking toward Silas, as if nothing was wrong.

"Is he in here now, Severus? I can feel a bit of warmth coming from where you are looking."

Severus didn’t answer. He ran to stand between the ghost and Silas, but Mikey just walked through him. Except for a little patch of heat, Severus had felt nothing, even though he had been able to pick the boy up two days before. He was stunned for a second, confused, before he turned around. By this time, Madam Pomfrey had moved away from the little Prince, startled by Severus’ quick movements.

"Harry," Mikey called, causing Severus to shudder.

"Mikey?" Silas answered. It was the first response he made since he started crying hysterically.

"We have to go. Now. Otherwise they’ll catch us," Mikey said. "Come on, Harry. We’ll go to the woods, and we’ll be able to play forever! Let’s go play, Harry," the ghost said, talking quietly but urgently. His voice echoed off the walls.

"Play," Silas responded, reaching his hand to his young, dead friend. "Let’s go play. We’ll play forever, like Peter Pan," he said. Now, the fire on Mikey had reached his waist, and Severus could feel the heat resonating off the boy.

"It’s getting hot," Madam Pomfrey said. "What’s going on?" She hadn’t been informed yet of Silas’ ghost friend.

Silas reached further, trying to take a hold of Mikey’s hand. Severus, finally shaken out of his stupor, grabbed his brother from the floor, holding him like a little child.

"Stay away," Severus ordered the boy, and Mikey turned around to look at the adult, angry. The first had reached further up the boy.

"He’s my friend, not yours. Harry wants to come with me," Mikey said impatiently, his voice still echoing.

"He can’t. He’s not dead," Severus stated, getting a wide-eyed look from the mediwitch in the room. Dumbledore had his wand pointed in the general direction of Mikey, but as he was unable to see the boy, he was unable to cast any spells. It was up to Severus.

"He can. He wants to. Don’t you, Harry?"

"Play," Silas mumbled, not really paying attention.

"Come here, Harry." Mikey sounded so innocent, Severus couldn’t help but note. So sweet . . .

"He can’t go with you, Mikey," Severus said. "You don’t want your friend do die, do you?"

"GIVE HIM TO ME!" Mikey yelled, so loud that it echoed much longer than his voice had been doing. The fire was now up to Mikey’s neck. He reached out with a fiery hand, and Severus took several steps back to avoid the overwhelming heat. He knew that if he let Mikey take Silas, it would be killing his brother. Mikey obviously wanted his friend with him . . . forever. "You will give him to me."

"No," Severus said flatly; forcibly. Thankfully, it only took a few seconds more before the fire consumed the ghost entirely, causing him to fall to the ground into a pile of burning ashes. After a few minutes, making sure that it was over and trying to get his heart to calm, Severus put Silas back down on the pile of blankets.

Madam Pomfrey took this as a hint to look over the first year, and Dumbledore went up the Severus, looking into his eyes. Wanting the old man to know, he willing showed the headmaster the memory of what happened. With understanding, Albus nodded.

"He has a fever, but other than that, I don’t see anything wrong with him. I’ll bring him up to the infirmary–."

"No," Severus snapped. "Silas will be staying with me, incase Mikey comes back."

"Mikey?" Pomfrey asked, still confused, but slowly putting the facts she knew together.

"Perhaps a few days off, to make sure?" Dumbledore suggested, and Severus nodded. He looked at the pile of ashes. They were starting to burn out, along with the footprints the boy made around the office. "I’m sure you two would be more comfortable at home, away from where this happen."

"Yes," Severus answered.

"What exactly did happen, Albus?" Poppy asked.

"Let us go to the infirmary. I will explain on the way there," was all Dumbledore’s reply. After they left, Severus picked up his brother, who was still mumbling incoherently, and carried him into his rooms after he unwarded the door.

Quickly gathering a number of Silas’ things, including clothes and a few books to read, Severus flooed with his brother to their home. By the time that he put the child in his bed, took off his shoes, and covered him, the boy was sleeping soundly, his fever no longer high.

Transfiguring Silas’ desk chair into something more comfortable, Severus sat down and watched Silas sleep. He wasn’t planning on leaving until Silas woke up.

Silas woke, feeling weird. It took him several minutes before he realized that it was because Severus was laying next to him in his bed, holding him tight. Slowly, the memory of what happened came back to him and he started panicking, unable to handle being confined so tightly by his brother.

Fortunately, the panicking woke Severus up and he set to immediately calming his little brother. It was amazing how the incident from three days ago proved to him how much he cared about Silas. He found it scared him. He honestly didn’t think he was capable of caring for Silas, especially at a time like this.

"Are you hungry, Silas?" Severus asked, and he shook his head. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Silas just looked at him with wide, scared eyes before looking down, mumbling, "You’ll hate me."

"No, I won’t. I’ll help you. It is not good to deal with something this extreme by yourself, especially if it is what I think it is. If I promise I won’t hate you, will you tell me?"

"Promise?" Silas asked in a childish voice.

"Promise," Severus answered, and Silas sighed, curling up with his pillow as his older brother continued to hold him. It reminded him so much of that dream . . . It was also the only time Silas could remember his brother holding him, excluding that dream. It felt so comfortable and safe. Maybe it was going to be okay.

"I was six, I think," Silas said quietly. "Mikey was my only friend, and I met him at school. He had three kids in his family, and he was treated horrible. Worse than me. That’s probably why Dudley couldn’t scare him away.

"During school, we talked about running away a lot and going to the woods and live or finding a family that cared about us. During the summer, Mikey wasn’t allowed to come out and play, even though he lived a few houses down, but one day he got out and came and got me. I didn’t want to go at first because we didn’t plan anything, but I went because I wasn’t going to let Mikey go himself. He was my best friend!

"I don’t know how much longer later, a few days I know for sure, Mikey and I came across this big fire in an opening in the woods we were in. It wasn’t spreading, and I think it was there on purpose. There was a lot of wood. I thought it would be helpful because then we could cook meat. We found a dead rabbit that we were trying to figure out how to eat.

"I burnt myself getting some of the wood, but it wasn’t bad. I got burnt a lot when I had to help Aunt Petunia with her cooking. Mikey decided to help, and we were having fun trying our best to get wood without getting burned, but Mikey tripped into the fire. He screamed so loud, but I just stood there and watched. I didn’t know what to do!" Silas sat up, peeling himself from Severus’ arms and fell off the bed as he struggled with the covers. "He kept calling for help, but I couldn’t! Then he stopped screaming, and I ran. I ran far . . ."

Silas started crying so hard, he was having trouble breathing. It took Severus a minute before he could process everything his younger brother said, but when he did, he moved himself to the edge of the bed and grabbed Silas, pulling him back onto the bed and started rubbing his back.

"It was an accident, Silas," he whispered into the hysterical boy’s ear. "You were six and scared and there was nothing you could have done."

Severus let Silas cry himself out and to sleep once again. It was the fifth time in the past three days he did so, only this time it took much longer. Although he wanted to give Silas a calming draught, he knew from experience that it wouldn’t help in the long run, and Severus wanted his brother to deal with this now instead of later. He was surprised that Silas wasn’t afraid of flooing after seeing his friend burned to death, but he remembered that they flooed together until he was eleven. That would have helped.

Tucking Silas in once again, Severus went downstairs to the floo to talk to Narcissa. He felt he was beginning to irritated the lady by contacting her so many times in the past few days, but she said she understood. He had no idea who else to contact for help that he trusted.

It was Lucius who answered the floo this time, saying that Narcissa had to go out for a bit, and Severus invited him over.

"And how is Silas?" Lucius asked as he sat down with a cup of tea.

"He’s been sleeping. He needs to eat, but he’s never hungry," Severus replied, sitting across from him.

"Try putting food in front of him when he wakes. He will realize soon enough that he is hungry."

"I hope that is the case."

"And what is it that has gotten him so upset?" Lucius asked. All the Malfoy adults knew was that there was a haunting at Hogwarts that deeply disturbed the young Prince, but they were unaware of the circumstances. Severus was planning on keeping it that way, at least for awhile.

"I don’t wish to speak of it at this time. I am hoping that it will all be over soon. Albus should be stopping by soon for tea. Do you wish to stay?"

Lucius sighed.

"I suppose I could, as I am already here. I do wish to see Silas for a bit, if he should wake soon."

"With as much as he has been sleeping, he–."

Severus was interrupted by a flare of green light from the fireplace and the headmaster stepping into the room.

"Hello, Severus. Lucius, hello! It has been a long while. How have you been."

"Nothing has much changed since last we saw each other. It has been rather quiet since Draco started Hogwarts," Lucius replied in an airy manner, which Severus recognized as his ‘I am only talking to you to be polite’ voice. Severus inwardly sighed. Lucius did not like the headmaster of Hogwarts much at all. He had not wanted Draco to go to Hogwarts mainly because of that man, although Draco did not know that. Best that the children did not know the histories of the adults in their life. It would only make issues more complicated.

"Ah, yes. Children do liven up a place quite a bit. And how is Silas, Severus?"

"I do not know. He is sleeping," Severus replied flatly.

"Perhaps you should wake him. I would much like to see him," Dumbledore suggested, and both Severus and Lucius eyed that man warily.

"I will go see if he is well enough for visitors," Severus answered, getting up to leave and leaving the other two men alone.

"I assume you have heard of the newest Defense professor?" Severus heard Albus ask Lucius as he left the room, and he shook his head slowly.

"Silas," Severus whispered into the sleeping boy’s ear once he arrived in the bedroom. "Silas, there are people here to see you. Are you well enough to get up? They don’t know, I promise."

"Sev’us?" Silas asked with a slur. "Don’ leave me."

"I’m not going to leave you, Silas, but you need to get up. You haven’t eaten very much in the past three days, and you are going to stay tired if you don’t get food in your body."

"Tired . . ."

"Yes, tired, I realize that," Severus answered, still calm, but starting to get impatient. He vowed to himself not to show any irritation, though. At least not at this stage. "Now, you need to get up."

Trying to convince the boy, Severus pulled back the covers and sat him up slowly. Silently, he cursed to himself. Silas probably didn’t have much energy to be able to move much on his own, with how little he ate, especially since he was now used to eating decent-sized meals.

"I’m getting you something to eat," Severus said. "Do not go back to bed, as I will only get you out again once I get back. Understand?" When Silas nodded and swung his legs over the bed in a small attempt to stand, Severus left the room to make a peanut butter and jam sandwich to get some energy into his younger brother. Thankfully, by the time he got back to the room, Silas hadn’t moved, and he handed the pale-looking boy the plate.

For a minute, Silas just picked at the sandwich, putting only small bits in his mouth at a time, but when his stomach growled (rather loudly), he started to take actual bits from the sandwich, finishing it within another minute.

"So you are hungry," Severus commented flatly, and Silas shook his head.

"Full now," he mumbled, moving to lay down where he was.

"No, Silas, you have been in bed long enough. If you are full, you need to get dressed and come down to see your visitors. They are worried about you."

"Do they know?" Silas asked, not realizing that Severus stated the answer before that they didn’t.

"No. They are just worried and wish to see you," he replied, helping his little brother off the bed and giving him a robe to put over his nightclothes. No need to get any more dressed than that, just yet.

"Okay," Silas replied gloomily. "You’re not mad at me?"

"No," Severus repeated. When is he going to understand that? Severus asked himself. He had told Silas that he wasn’t going to be mad at him many times in the past few days, whenever he woke up, but he still didn’t seem to be able to get his mind about that quite yet.

When Silas got the robe on, he ushered the younger boy down to where Lucius and Albus were waiting, hoping that nothing had happened to alienate Lucius from the Headmaster than he already was.

"Hello, Silas," Lucius greeted, looking grateful that they had come in. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Silas answered his godfather, looking at the headmaster questionably and wondering why the headmaster would visit him. As much as he had been at Hogwarts, he rarely talked to the old man, and although he was nice, he was kind of scary. Silas couldn’t figure why, but he figured it was because he was the headmaster of his school and he had a sense of power aways around him.

"Would you like a lemon drop, Silas? I find they are good to give you a small burst of energy until you are able to eat a good sized meal," Dumbledore said cheerfully, reaching a hand into one of his pockets.

"No, thank you, I just ate," Silas answered.

"I was wondering what was taking so long," Lucius said, giving a barely-noticeable glare at Severus.

"Perhaps you would like to talk with your godfather a bit, Silas, while I talk to your brother?" Dumbledore asked, and Silas shrugged.

"Okay," he said quiet, really wanting to sit down. He watched Severus follow Dumbledore out of the room, then turned to his godfather after he sat.

In the kitchen, Dumbledore sat down at the table and indicated to Severus to sit across from him.

"You have found information, I am assuming?" Severus asked, and Albus nodded.

"Yes. I believe it might have been a case of powerful accidental magic more than a haunting," Albus replied. "I have found cases similar to young Silas’, and they all involved the child getting extremely paranoid or scared about something before the incident occurred. I believe it started it with his strong fear of the forest, and his wish for his young friend to stay most likely strengthened the illusion first caused by the fear, which would explain why Mikey became solid. It would seem that the fear took over in the end."

"And why was I able to see Mikey when no one else could?" Severus asked, trying to make sense of the information his boss was giving him.

"Perhaps because you two are related? Silas’ situation seems unique, so it is merely guesses and speculations for what happened. I do suggest slowly introducing him to the woods, though. It wouldn’t do to be afraid of them his entire life. Forests are filled with many, many interesting lives."

"Of course," Severus replied. "We will try to be back at Hogwarts tomorrow. Now that Silas is out of bed, he should be well soon."

"Good, good. Well, I should be on my way, then. Much to do! Have a good day, Severus, and be patient. I’m sure it will take a short while for Silas to overcome his fear. Although I don’t know the entire story, it sounds rather tragic."

"Yes," Severus replied flatly. "Good day, Headmaster."

Severus followed Albus to the sitting room where Silas was sitting alone, and after the headmaster left, he sat down next to his brother.

"Would you like some more food?" he asked, and Silas shook his head.

"Why did he have to die?"

"Sometimes . . . sometimes, we just can’t control situations," Severus answered. "Where did Lucius go?"

"He had to go back home. Something about a meeting with someone at the Ministry . . ."

"Ah. Do you think you will be well enough to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow? You would only have two days of school work to make up, then."

"I guess," Silas answered. "I wanna stay here, though."

"You can’t stay here forever, Silas. It will all be fine soon."

Silas didn’t answer, and Severus inwardly sighed once again. He had no idea what was going on in the eleven year old’s mind, so helping the boy any more than he already was seemed out of the question.

"Can I go outside?" Silas asked quietly.

"Of course," Severus replied. "There is no reason for you to not go outside."

"But . . ." Silas trailed off, standing up and slowly walking toward the door. When Severus was sure that his brother wasn’t going to continue the thought, he stood up and gently grabbed the small arm to stop his progression toward the outside.

"What, Silas?"

The first year didn’t answer at first, just looked questioningly up at his older brother. Was he brave enough to ask? Would Severus refuse him? Call him a baby or something worse? Say he was useless?

Silas shook those thoughts out of his head. Not once had Severus been mean to him like that. If he couldn’t, he would explain why, maybe in an irritated fashion, but he would never call him names. Right?

"Can you come with me? I don’t want to be outside alone," he finally asked.

"I will get a book," Severus replied, and Harry let out a sigh of relief before going to the door that led to the outdoors to wait for him.

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The next day, Monday, Severus woke Silas up early, telling him to get dressed quickly so they could make it to breakfast in the Great Hall and still have time for Silas to talk to his professors before the day started.

It seemed to Silas that they had flooed to Hogwarts and arrived at the Great Hall much to quickly. Severus hadn’t said much about Mikey, except that it wasn’t his fault, but Silas couldn’t help but sense something wrong with his older brother. He just hoped that he wasn’t having second thoughts about anything. Severus wasn’t much to change his mind on issues, but he was used to when the Dursley’s told him one thing, but did another. He didn’t want Severus to send him away, but he new he should prepare himself for it just in case.

Although breakfast was being served, it was still too early for everyone but a professor and a few scattered students to be eating, none of which were Silas’ friends, so Silas sat alone at the Ravenclaw table and ate quickly. He knew his professors would be in their offices or classrooms before breakfast, every professor taking separate shifts for the slow meal most days, so he wanted to catch them.

By the time he had learned what he missed in every class except for runes, it was nearly time for class to start. Almost running, he made it to the Ancient Runes classroom just after Professor Camstar, who gave him a worried look. Her look was followed by the rest of the class, and Silas quickly sat down in his usual spot near the front as quietly as possible. He hated the looks everyone was giving him, and he wondered what they knew. From they way they were staring, he felt like they did know.

Impossible, Silas thought. Severus is the only one who knows, and he promised not to tell anyone. They’re just wondering why I was gone on Thursday and Friday.

"Mr. Prince, as you were late, perhaps you could explain to us the basic meaning of Ingwaz?"

"Er . . . usually common sense, internal growth, family caring, and . . . er . . . male fertility," Silas finished, blushing a deep red and getting laughs from most of the third years.

"Correct. This week we will be beginning with the basic uses of Ingwaz . . . oh, and before I forget, stay after class, Mr. Prince, in order to get what you missed while you were gone."

"Yes, Professor Camstar," Silas said, trying to make himself smaller in his seat. As much as he loved Ancient Runes, it was unnerving to be in the same class as the third years, Gryffindor and Slytherin at that. It didn’t help that he already knew a lot of the basics, which was what they were currently learning, so he was called on a lot in class.

The Slytherins in the class knew that Silas was the brother of their Head of House, mostly because of Draco, and they often tried to get Silas to convince Severus to give them special privileges. He would always refuse, but they always gave him disappointed looks, and he hated that.

And he was sure that they were going to ask about what happened at the end of last week. After all, it was hard to miss that your Head of House was gone for four days, especially one that was as involved in the House activities as Severus.

Inwardly sighing and attempting to clear his mind (Severus insisted it help concentration), Silas tried listening to Camstar lecture about the history of the rune-of-the-week.

After class, Silas made his way to Potions and was nearly bombarded by Draco and Stephan, who were waiting for him near the beginning of the dungeon corridor.

"What happened, Silas? Are you alright? What could have happened that you had to go home for four days?" Draco asked, his voice becoming more demanding the longer he talked.

"I don’t want to talk about anything here," Silas answered, debating whether or not he was going to tell his friends. After all, they were the only two who knew bits of the Harry Potter secret, so they might understand. Maybe. Well, he could at least tell them about Mikey’s ghost; just not what happened.

Still, thinking about talking about what happened made his stomach cramp up as he and Stephan entered the Potions classroom – Draco had a different class – and he decided suddenly that he wasn’t going to tell them. Now, he just had to figure out what he was going to say so they wouldn’t try and persuade him into talking.

Severus came walking in as usual, only giving a slight indication that he recognized Silas, and he started lecturing about the potion they were to brew the next class immediately. Silas couldn’t help but notice the poor mood that his brother was in. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw lost 20 points each in the first ten minutes for the constant talking that ensued in the background from the moment Severus walked in – no doubt because of their professor’s previous absences.

Silas tried listening to what everyone was talking about, because it was rare that anyone was willing to talk during Potions class, but once he heard his name a few times, he decided not to listen to them and pay attention to the potions lecture.

It was one he wasn’t very familiar with, which enabled him to keep his mind off of the past and the still low murmur that occurred when the professor’s back was turned.

By the time class ended, with five more points off from Hufflepuff when Severus caught Susan Bones passing a note, Silas had forgotten about the discussions and was looking forward to a free period, then lunch. He was extremely hungry, an unfamiliar feeling from the past few days when he felt as if he couldn’t eat.

Maybe Severus is right, Silas thought. Maybe it will all be over soon. Maybe I can forget about it.

Silas’ good mood was cut off shortly by a few of his Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw classmates, who stopped him just down the corridor from the classroom.

"What did you do that got Snape so angry?" Su Li asked, and Silas gave her a questioning look. She had never talked bad about Snape around him before, so he was wondering where this was going. "You must have done something bad."

"I didn’t do anything wrong," Silas replied flatly, almost sounding like his older brother.

"Sure. Then where were you for the past few days? I suppose Snape just decided to take you and go off for a holiday?" Hanna Abbot asked.

"That’s none of your business," Silas answered, getting angry. He looked for Stephan, but didn’t see him. He was probably in the common room by now. "Don’t you have class to get to?" He started pushing his way past the small group of first years, most of whom where taller than him, but they didn’t try to stop him, and soon he found himself back at the Ravenclaw Tower.

"Well, hello," the man in the portrait guarding the entrance said. "Haven’t seen you here for a few days. I’ve heard nasty rumors, of course. Hope they weren’t true! Password?"

"Umbletilkins," Silas replied, and was glad to find that the password hadn’t changed. Stephan probably would have told him if it had.

Stephan was waiting for him in the common room next to a fireplace on the far end.

"Took you long enough," Stephan said. "I thought you were right behind me. I didn’t notice until I got here, though, so I figured you stopped to talk to Snape."

"No," Silas said, sitting down hard in the chair next to his friend. "Some of the kids in our class accused me for Severus’ mood."

"He’s not mad at you, is he?"

"I don’t think so. He wasn’t at breakfast."

"So," Stephan said, an indication that he was changing the subject, and Silas groaned out loud. He knew what was coming. "What happened? Did it have anything to do with . . . you know who?"

"No," Silas answered. "He’s dead remember?"

"Well, I thought . . . maybe because . . . you know . . . that something happened. Why else would you have to leave so quickly? Without saying anything?"

"There was a ghost that wanted me to go with him, and Severus thought it best to leave until it was taken care of," he answered, only partially lying.

"Oh," Stephan said slowly. "Did it have anything to do with that spell you did at the beginning of last term? What kind of ghost?"

"I don’t know . . . I don’t think so. Severus said it was because I was stressing and the ghost was caused by accidental magic. Why are you asking so many questions?"

"Just curious," Stephan shrugged. "You sure get into a lot of trouble during the year. Something going to happen every term?" he teased, and Silas hit him on the shoulder.

"No. I hope not, at least. That would be horrible."

"Yeah. Want to play a game of chess?"

"Now?"

"No, during our next class," Stephan answered, rolling his eyes.

"I suppose. You set up the bored. I want to get some chocolate. I’m starving," Silas said, running up to the dorm to get some.

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Over the next few days, Silas came to the consensus that almost everyone who knew he was Severus’ brother blamed him for the constantly bad mood the potions professor was in, and after hearing it behind his back so many times, he was starting to think that maybe it was true. Stephan and Draco (although they told him that it couldn’t be his fault) finally convinced him to talk to the professor after their Thursday potions class.

"Yes, Silas?" Severus asked after Silas had been standing there for a few minutes.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked quickly. Severus looked up at the boy.

"No," he answered, looking back down at the papers he was looking over.

"Then why are you so mean to everyone lately?"

Severus put his quill in the inkwell and looked up, once again, at his little brother.

"Am I hearing right? That as I have been taking points off of those who are misbehaving – rather excessively, mind you – that this is somehow your fault?"

"No," Silas answered slowly, beginning to feel stupid. "But . . . never mind."

"I am not mad at you. Your classmates have been acting rather disobedient all week, and I am merely being strict to remind them that they are here to learn . . . not to gossip."

"Oh."

"How have you been?" Severus asked.

"Better. I . . . don’t feel so bad about it now."

"Good. Now, go. I have work to do and I know you have at least one essay to work on."

"Bye," Silas said, picking his bag up on the way out of the classroom and feeling better.

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It was the next Friday night, and Silas was excited. It was safe to say that all of Hogwarts was excited. Except, of course, for the older, more mature students and most of the professors. Among those professor who were excited were Flitwick, Trimdol, and, of course, Dumbledore.

Headmaster Dumbledore had decided to start a biweekly game night to relieve the stress of classes, which began immediately after classes (about four-ish) and went until curfew. Because of the games, curfew was changed to ten for those third year and under and midnight for fourth years and above. This was only for the gamers, of course. Dumbledore made it very clear that if you were not in the Great Hall, you must be in your house.

The night would include, as the posters stated, Wizard games, Muggle games, Wizard and Muggle sports. And, of course, the best of all: Dinner and Desserts! Silas’ first thought was that if whoever it was who did the signs (he guessed it was either Dumbledore, Flitwick or Trimdol) didn’t know how to rhyme. It flowed like a rhyme, but sports and desserts just did not work.

"Ready?" Stephan asked, and Silas nodded. He was dressed in a pair of black pants and a blue t-shirt, as the school robes were not required for the event. He did not want to play soccer robes.

"Yup," he answered. "Draco’s probably already down there."

"No, he’ll probably be late. He had this entire ‘fashionably late’ rant when you were late for breakfast this morning. Unless a party or class calls for you to be exactly on time, you are supposed to come after the time indicated, or something like that. I’d tell you to ask him, but it’s nothing you’d really want to hear," Stephan answered, and Silas laughed. Draco did have a habit of going on rants about what was proper and what wasn’t. And it was rather annoying at times, because Silas really didn’t care. He had enough problems with Severus correcting his language almost every day.

Down in the Great Hall, which was set up with many small tables with games on them on one side, and room for sports on the other side, but first year Ravenclaws noticed that Draco was not there yet . . . no surprise to either of them.

Spotting William and Trimdol near the area where the Head Table usually was (the raised area was now set up for games), Silas grabbed Stephan and pulled him to his very young friend, who was currently walking around and under tables, talking gibberish to a toy snake he was carrying around. Silas was glad to see that the boy liked the snake, since it was what he picked out for William for Christmas (Severus paid for it, of course). The child’s English, although not up to par with other four year olds’, was much better than it was at the beginning of the year. He rarely talked in parseltongue, and when he did, it was when he was frustrated and usually when Silas was around.

"Silas!" William shouted when he saw his favorite person. He ran up to Silas as fast as his small body would allow, and Silas picked him up for a little bit, but had to put him down since he grew so much.

"You’re getting really big boy, William," Silas told him, kneeling so he could talk to the boy face-to-face. "Soon, I won’t be able to pick you up at all!" William giggled and held out the stuffed snake for Silas to pet.

"Hissy like you," William said.

"Really? Well, I like Hissy, too," Silas answered.

A few minutes later, much to Stephan’s chagrin, Silas, Stephan, William, Dumbledore, Trimdol, and Flitwick were all sitting down at a small table playing a game that was meant for four and five year olds learning to read. Silas was surprised that William knew a few words.

"Broom!" William shouted, five games and two hours later. Somehow, William had convinced everyone to keep playing the game, even though they all were sick of it by the end of the second. It wasn’t a hard game at all, and it was only challenging for the small child. Finally, William won the last game, and he crawled off his raised chair and into his father’s lap.

"Tired. Hungry," William complained, and Trimdol sighed.

"I suppose it’s time for food and bedtime, huh? Although it is still early. Long day, eh, kid?" Trimdol asked.

"Long. Bed."

"Okay, then. Let’s go," the father said, but it was easy to tell he wanted to stay. It was half his idea for the game night to begin with.

"Perhaps one of the other professors could take him," Dumbledore offered. "It seems to me that Professor McGonagall is looking quite tired. I’m sure she would love to look over William until the night’s finished."

"Wonderful! I’ll go ask. If she says yes, I’ll set her up and be right back here!" Trimdol said a little too excitedly, a bounce in his step as he bounded over to the deputy headmistress. Silas had to laugh. Trimdol was probably one of his favorite professors. He was just so happy a lot of the time. Sometimes, it got old, but he could almost always cheer a gloomy someone up.

"There’s Draco," Stephan said flatly. "And he doesn’t look to happy."

"Oh, he’ll get over it," Silas said. "He always does. Let’s go."

By the time they got to Draco, who was sitting and playing a seemingly boring game of cards with Crabbe and Goyle, who were more interested in the food than the game, he looked as if he was ready to hex anyone and everyone.

"Want to go see what else there is to do, Draco?"

"Yeah, there looks to be some interesting muggle games that I want to try," Stephan said.

"Muggle games?" Draco asked, bewildered. "Muggle games? Why? I mean . . . it’s muggle."

"Yeah, I kind of gathered that," Silas said flatly. "You know, games are games. It doesn’t matter who invented them."

"Fine, we’ll play a wizard game, although I was kind of wanting to try something new," Stephan said, and Silas dragged them to the gobstones area so they wouldn’t begin fighting. Silas waved to Trimdol, who came back into the Great Hall dancing, and they began a game after recruiting another first year Slytherin, Nott.

Another hour later, they finished a game of Gobstones just as the last call for food was yelled out, and Silas and Stephan (Draco had already ate, so he started another game with Nott), ran to the table and began filling their plates with food.

Stephan dropped his plate as several students screamed, and everyone turned to see what the matter was. There was a pause in time as everyone’s mind registered what they were seeing, then panic overwhelmed the Great Hall.

Teachers began magically ushering the panicking students away from the overlarge Chimaera while Dumbledore, Trimdol, and Severus worked on putting up a shield between the lion/goat/dragon mix and the students, without much luck. Every time the shield appeared stable, the Chimaera broke though and make another attempt at one whoever was closest. Soon, almost all the students were out of the Great Hall, except for the few who seemed to be trapped in place.

The Chimaera, breaking free of the magical bounds once again, dodged the stunning spells sent at it and aimed right for the nearest student – which happened to be Silas. Silas couldn’t move. He didn’t know if it was because he was so scared that he felt like he was going to pee in his pants, or because he really couldn’t move, but why he couldn’t move wasn’t the point. The point was that the monster was running right for him very, very quickly.

"Silas, MOVE!" he heard Severus and Trimdol say together, and he tried, he really did, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the Chimaera’s. Suddenly, everything spun quickly before going black.

Not realizing he had shut his eyes, Silas slowly opened them to a dimly lit room. He was laying on his back on the cold stone floor, and he was surprised that he was not in pain. Was he dead? He surely hoped not.

Sitting up, he saw a lady standing in the corner of the room, her back turned to him. He stared at her for a few minutes, realizing that at times, she didn’t look completely solid. He had the strangest feeling when she turned around, and he couldn’t help the word that escaped his mouth.

"Mom?" he asked. Footsteps were then heard coming quickly down the corridor, and Severus and Trimdol entered the room with a bang of the door.

"Silas, are you okay?" Severus asked, worried, and ran to kneel next to his brother.

"Fine," Silas answered, looking at the place where the lady disappeared just before the adults entered. "I . . . I saw . . . mum," he said, still very confused.

"Then you are obviously not okay, as Mother is dead," Severus replied harshly, picking his brother up like a small child.

"Did you want to floo to the infirmary? I’m sure Filius has the floo open in his classroom."

"No. Poppy is probably dealing with many hysterical students at the moment. I will assess the damage first, and bring him to the hospital wing later, if necessary."

"If you’re sure . . ." Trimdol said, giving Silas a pat on the shoulder.

"You’re okay, kid?" he asked, and Silas nodded, blushing.

"I can walk . . ." he complained, but Severus took no note of his talking as they made their way down to the dungeons.

"Albus . . ." Severus said, barging into the headmaster’s office without knocking. Once he arrived, though, he stopped short. "No students hurt?" he asked.

"No, no students hurt. Many still frightened, but none hurt," Albus answered grimly.

"What happened?"

"We don’t know. The Chimaera is being held by the Ministry at the moment, and they are hoping to be able to track where it came from."

"Who . . ."

"Still unknown, Severus, and probably will continue to stay so. The entire situation appears untraceable. How is young Silas?"

"He appears fine, although . . . what happened between him and the Chimaera?"

"You did not see?"

"I was attempting to stop it. I was not looking at Silas at the time."

"Another mystery, I’m afraid. I was hoping . . ." Albus stopped, thinking. "I have a theory which has entered my mind after view the memory again. Perhaps you would like to see it? I would very much like to have your input."

Severus nodded and they both walked over to the old wizard’s pensieve.

"Headmaster," Severus said, stopping a few feet of the magical object. Dumbledore looked at him expectantly. "Surely you must have some idea how it happened . . ."

"You suspect Professor Trimdol," Albus stated.

"Yes," Severus agreed. "I don’t know how he would have access to a Chimaera, but he would be one who could control it. The Chimaera should not have been that difficult to control."

"I have no reason to suspect Trimdol at the moment, but please be aware that I have been keeping an eye on him."

"You have?"

"Yes, and for all I and the portraits can tell, he has not had contact with anyone outside the castle since he arrived here during the summer. He has been concentrating on his son. William does seem to be faring well, does he not?"

"Silas likes him," he answered distastefully. "But I do not trust him."

"As you do not trust all of the defense professors to pass through here, hmm?" Albus asked, shaking his head. "I will encourage you to keep an eye out, but that is all. Now, the memory?"

Severus cleared his mind as well as he could before taking the few steps to the pensieve and waving his wand slowly over the pool of memories.

"How . . . she . . ."

"Another ghost?" Severus nodded, realizing that Albus probably couldn’t see her. "I thought as much. It had a similar feeling to when Mikey was around. I feel it is the same force that brought the young ghost," Albus said, indicating that Severus should sit, but the younger wizard ignored the invitation.

"Accidental magic?"

"Perhaps. You have worked with Silas and his magic, correct?"

"All first term, and a little before the year started," Severus answered, and the headmaster gave a small chuckle.

"Yes, I remember. Did you feel anything . . . strong there? Stronger than other students his age?"

"He is very smart. He can grasp spells decently within a small period of time."

"But his power," Albus stressed. "Perhaps, if it is as I originally suspected and it is his accidental magic, he must have more power than I originally thought. For now, it seems to be involved in protecting him, but . . . if he gets angry instead of scared . . ."

"You think he could . . . unconsciously conjure something that could harm someone. Or himself. Like . . ."

"Like a Chimaera," Severus finished. "You think that he caused the magical creature to appear."

"I would like to think not," the headmaster answered. "But until we’re sure, perhaps you could teach him some Occlumency techniques."

"You think he conjured a Chimaera! How would he even know what that is? He has not even been in the magical world for a year yet. Most upper level students don’t know much about one, especially details about how the creature would act."

"You said it yourself: Silas is a very smart boy. He reads a lot, does he not?"

"He does have a few magical creature books," Severus relented.

"And it would explain why it did not respond to the spells. It was not entirely a Chimaera."

"And you think that Silas is a danger to students? He was not even in a bad or angry mood when the creature arrived."

"Mikey did not appear all at once, correct?"

"Silas," Severus said, as if he was remembering something. He did not bother to explain his thoughts, he merely left the office as quickly as he could without running. When he realized the students were all either in their dorms or in the hospital wing recovering from the terror, he started running without the fear of someone seeing him.

Entering his room, he was startled, despite, he reasoned, he expected her to be there.

"Lily," he said. It wasn’t a greeting, merely a recognition. She was currently sitting on the couch with Silas sitting in her lap.

"My baby," she said, ignoring the living adult in the room and rocking back and forth. Silas was nearly asleep.

"What are you doing here?" Severus asked sharply, remembering how possessive Mikey was. He hoped that this didn’t end in a similar fashion, especially since Silas was in her lap.

"You are taking care of my baby, my Harry?" she asked, addressing Severus. "I missed him so. I didn’t want to scare him, so I didn’t approach him until he needed me, but . . . my baby. My poor baby."

"He’s not a baby now. And his name is Silas. Silas Prince. Not Harry Potter," Severus replied flatly. Lily didn’t answer, just held Silas tighter and continued rocking.

"Silas?" Severus asked, trying to get his brother’s attention. "Silas, come here."

"Mmn," he replied, slowly opening his eyes. "Severus?"

"Yes, Silas, it is me. Come here, child, we need to talk about something."

Silas slowly was able to loosen Lily’s grip on him, and he walked to Severus.

"No, not Harry," Lily said. "Not my baby!" Silas stopped walking toward his brother, turning to face to ghost. Severus grabbed onto the first year’s shoulder to prevent him from walking away from him. Just as Harry was about to get loose, crying for seemingly no other reason than because his ‘mum’ was crying, the life left the ghost’s eyes, and she fell to the ground, then disappeared in a swirl of colors. Severus sighed.

So they are leaving as they died the first time, he concluded, wondering what would happen if Silas were with them as they ‘died’. He didn’t wish to find out.

"Mum?" Silas asked, crying silently where he stood. Severus gave his a small hug before sitting him in a chair away from the couch, where Lily was holding Silas.

"You okay, Silas?" he asked, and the boy nodded slowly.

"Why . . . why are they all showing up only to die again?" Silas asked, still crying.

"Silas . . ." he began. "The headmaster has a theory. He believes that it could be your accidental magic that is causing the ghosts to come. Both came when you were very scared of something, and both helped you a bit . . . but I still believe it could be dangerous if you are with them when they ‘die’ again."

"Wait . . . so . . . I am making them come?"

"Unconsciously. Like how you appeared on the roof. But I want to teach you to control your emotions and clear your mind, so you would be less likely to cause another one to appear. We don’t know if it really is accidental magic." Severus explained, deciding to keep the Chimaera out of it. It was all speculation, anyway.

"Okay," Silas agreed.

"Good. We’ll start now. The easiest way to control your emotions to keep your thoughts clear of all thoughts except for what you are currently doing. Close your eyes and think about nothing but your breath going in and out of your nose and mouth," he instructed. He watched the boy attempt it for a few minutes before he spoke again. "Okay?"

"It’s hard," Silas said. "I keep thinking about other things."

"It takes practice. I want you to practice that before bed every day, when you find spare time on your hands, and when you begin to feel scared, excited, angry, or any other extreme emotion. I will be testing you in a week."

"How?" Silas asked.

"You will see. For now, just concentrate on keeping your mind clear."

"Okay," he replied slowly.

"Now, bed," Severus ordered, and Silas grumbled on his way to his dungeon room. Silas had to admit that the room was comfy, though. He liked it a lot better than his Ravenclaw dorm room, but not as much as he liked his room at home, although this room was set up in a similar manner. After getting into his pajamas, he snuggled under of his covers to sleep, not noticing Severus hovering in the doorway.

"Did you read the Daily Prophet?" Draco asked Silas a week later as the Chimaera incident started to fade. The Ministry refused to release any information on what happened to the Chimaera, but the rumors were that it was transferred to the Department of Mysteries (no one would explain to Silas what that was exactly), but since he was sure the rumor was started by the Weasley twins, Silas and most of the students doubted it.

After Silas’ close encounter with the Chimaera, the students who accused Silas of making the potions master angry apologized to him, and Silas reluctantly accepted it, mostly because he didn’t want the other students to dislike him. He had enough of that in primary school. He wasn’t sure why it took them that long to apologize, though. Still, it hurt that they did accuse him.

"No," Silas replied. "Do I want to?"

"Maybe," Stephan said, taking the paper from Draco’s hands and tossing it at him. Ignoring his two friends, who were looking expectantly at him, he browsed the paper. He didn’t come across anything of interest until he got a few pages in.

Turning the page to make sure that was it, Silas signed and folded the paper, handing it back to Draco.

"It’s not really a big deal," Draco assured him. "There are articles like that in there every year or so. Usually when Potter hadn’t been sighted for a while."

"I used to get strangers greet me and give me stuff when I was younger. Could that pertain . . ."

"Most likely," Stephan said, looking slightly jealous.

Silas shrugged, poking at the pie that was sitting on his dessert plate, not really that hungry anymore. Could they somehow track him down as Harry Potter? His scar was pretty well hid now, so unless someone did a counter spell to take down the illusion, they couldn’t see it. But if everyone found out he was Harry Potter . . .

Silas shook his head. He didn’t want anyone to find out. So many strangers came up to him whenever he went out of the house, it was scary. If that was how he was treated in the muggle world, where only a few wizards hung about, it was bound to be much worse in the wizarding world. No, he preferred being known for being good in his studies, for being Severus’ little brother, and for being accident-prone. At least he didn’t have the entire wizarding world on his tail at the moment.

"I need to go find Severus," he said, realizing the time. "He’s going to see if I can clear my mind well enough, or something like that." He explained to his two friends what Severus explained to him, a little more about Mikey and what happened with his mum (just because she wasn’t his mother by blood, didn’t mean that she wasn’t his mum), and how they were connect. Both agreed that clearing his mind would be good.

"We’ll see you later, Silas," Draco said, and Stephan nodded, and they both pushed their plates away and cleared a space on the table so they could play a game with their chocolate frog wizard cards.

Silas found his brother in his office immediately, grading papers.

"Are you caught up in you classes, now?" Severus asked as soon as he entered.

"Yeah. I mean, yes, I am. Grading papers?"

"Yes. Sit down. As soon as I am done with the fifth year papers, I will test you," he said shortly, and Silas sat down in a chair on the edge of the room, choosing not to sit right across from his brother.

Bored, Silas looked around the office. Severus kept many ingredients for potions in his office. He remembered that Severus told him once that he had the biggest store in Hogwarts, and probably more than most potions masters. It was an upside of working at the best magic school in the area, he had said.

Silas jumped as whatever was in the jar he was looking at moved.

"It’s alive?" Silas asked, pointing to the jar of the orange-ish looking liquid. The . . . things . . . were no longer moving.

"Toadpole used in potions usually need to be fresh."

"Tadpoles? As in baby frogs? They don’t look like tadpoles. Are they . . ."

"No, toadpoles. Those are adults. There are . . . babies, to use the word you used, in the jar next to it, and eggs in the jar next to that."

"Ew," Silas stated, choosing to look at other jars, preferably ones that weren’t living. That must be horrible, being alive for the sole purpose of being a potion ingredient. Thankfully, none of the jars he looked at seemed to be alive. Nothing blinked at him or swam, anyway. Still, the jars of dead things all around the office were slightly unsettling. He wondered why he didn’t notice it much before.

Probably because I was always busy while in here, he figured.

"Finished," Severus announced, putting the paper aside. "Now, you remember how I told you once that – if necessary – I would be able to see your memories? I am going to cast a charm that will allow me to see some of your memories. It will be your job to keep me out. It will not be so hard if you practiced as I had instructed you to. Close your eyes and clear your mind. I will give you a few minutes."

"So, to block my mind, all I have to do is clear it?" Silas asked, curious. He had heard of references to this type of thing in a few runes books he had read, but it wasn’t much.

"No. Blocking me entirely from your mind, in addition to a few other objectives, would be called Occlumency. At this time, I am teaching you how to keep your mind clear. It will protect you against subtle attacks and the use of the legilimancy spell, but if anyone tries to force their mind into yours, keeping your mind clear would be very little resistance."

"Oh," Silas answered. "Are you going to teach me Occlumency sometime, then?"

"When you are older. The situation does not call for it now, but perhaps in a few years. It is a very difficult task to master. Now, clear your mind. I will not remind you again."

Glaring at his older brother, Silas closed his eyes and breathed deeply. A few minutes later, he opened his eyes to find his brother looking at him intently. Before Silas could process what was happening, Severus pointed his wand at him.

"Legilimens," he said quietly.

"No!" Silas yelled, and he felt Severus leave his mind.

"Good for the first try, but your mind wasn’t clear enough. Your emotions are still hanging on your consciousness too freely."

"I practiced!" Silas said, angry. "I really did."

"I do not doubt that, Silas. I was telling you that you need to keep practicing. We will try again in a week."

"Okay," Silas sighed, giving his brother a confused look as Severus guided him to the desk chair.

"Silas, what has been bothering you? Are you still worried about Mikey? Or was it Lily?"

"I . . . well, kinda," Silas started, and Severus didn’t bother to correct him. Instead, he pulled up another chair and sat across from him. "But . . . what will happen if they find out that I’m Harry Potter?"

"This again?" Severus asked.

"Well, there was that article in the Daily Prophet today. Did you see it?" Silas asked, looking up at his brother, worried. "What if they really do start looking and find me? There are people who know, you know."

"Yes, I know. But the protections will not allow anyone but you, me, and a few other people to say anything about it. They would have to find specific documentation or see your scar."

"But it’s still possible, right?"

"Yes, it is still possible." Silas looked down at his lap, playing with the hem of one of his sleeves. "But do not worry about that now. If it happens, which I find very unlikely as I set up the precautions myself, we will deal with it then. Even then, I am sure the hype would not last very long, as you would be known as Silas, not Harry."

"I don’t know," Silas whined, and Severus gave him a look.

"Just don’t worry about it, now. The more you think about it, the better the chance that you will reveal something about it yourself. Yet another reason to keep your mind clear," Severus said quietly, almost dangerously, and Silas felt compelled to nod. It was rare that he heard that tone of voice from Severus, and this was the first time toward him. Slowly, he built up his courage.

"Is something wrong?" Silas asked his brother, who had started to look through some papers in a draw in his desk. He didn’t stop until he pulled out a small book and put it in one of his pockets.

"Just worried, Silas, that is all."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he snapped, then sighed. "I need to speak with the headmaster, Silas. Go find your friends, and remember to keep your mind clear, understand?" Severus asked, and Silas nodded, getting up and walking past his brother. He left the office without saying anything more, confused.

Monday morning, still exhausted from a sleepless night, Silas was sitting at the Ravenclaw table studying for the small exam that he forgot about until the night before. Worst part was that it was potions. Sure, he knew most of the potions that the exam was on, he wasn’t ready for it. Not as well as he should be, especially for one of Severus’ exams. He really didn’t want to risk doing horrible on a potions exam, particularly with the way that he acted on Saturday. Something was wrong that he wasn’t telling.

Silas ignored the owls that fluttered in for mail, not expecting anything. After all, all his friends were at Hogwarts, and he didn’t know anyone outside of Hogwarts besides the muggles from when he lived with the Dursleys.

That’s why he was surprised when one of the school owls landed in front of him and held out his leg with a letter on it. Confused, he took the letter.

It was on a single piece of parchment, no envelope, and his name was written in flowery letters in purple ink. Slowly, he opened it, wondering who had written him.

"What is it?" Stephan asked, also going through his notes.

"Dumbledore wants to meet me for lunch," Silas answered, looking at the head table. Dumbledore and a few other professors (the ones that were looking at him) gave him a smile, and Severus gave a nod. "And I think they were talking about me," he whispered to his friend, turning back to his notes and pretending to study.

"Who?"

"The professors. When I looked at the head table, they all smiled at me."

"Scary."

"Yeah," Silas answered.

"So, are you going?"

"I have no choice, do I?" Silas asked roughly.

"Well, what’s so bad about that? He is the headmaster."

"That’s the point. He doesn’t usually invite students for lunch, does he?"

"Well, it’s probably because your brother is working for him. I’d go if I were you."

"I told you, I don’t have any choice. I don’t really want to, though," Silas said, and both students were quiet for the next few minutes, studying. Checking the time, Silas got up.

"I have to get to Runes. See you later."

"Bye," Stephan answered, switching his attention to his potions book.

A few hours later, Silas walked out of the potions classroom relieved. Turned out he did know everything he needed to know for the test. With that out of the way, he turned his attention to the meeting that was supposed to be happening . . . now.

Stalling, he dropped his book bag off in his room (in the dungeons to waste more time) before heading to the headmaster’s tower.

Just as he approached the gargoyle, it started turning and opening. Sighing, he stepped onto the magical escalator.

"Silas! How are you, my boy?" Dumbledore asked, hand waving toward the chair across from his desk. Silas sat down, smelling the food that was on the cleared desk.

"Okay," he said, eyeing the meat ravioli that was in one of the bowls in front of him.

"Oh, yes. Ravioli is good, isn’t it?" Dumbledore asked, smiling. "Severus said it was one of your favorite foods."

"He knows I’m here?" Silas asked, looking up to see Dumbledore taking some food from the center plates.

"Go ahead and serve yourself, Silas. Yes, Severus knows you are he. In fact, he is the one who suggested I talk with you. He is worried, you know."

"He seems different now," Silas replied, trying to distract himself from the conversation by serving himself several huge pieces of ravioli.

"He has been looking for ways to protect you. Have you seen any more ghosts?"

"No. I mean, none that aren’t supposed to be around."

"Of course," Dumbledore replied with a small chuckle. "A normal day does not go by without seeing several, does it not?"

"No. This is good! Why don’t we have ravioli more often here?" Silas asked, and Dumbledore gave him a small smile.

"You would have to ask the house elves about that. I have very little control over what they decided to serve."

"But they’re house elves. You could just tell them to make something. That’s what happens at Draco’s house."

"I prefer giving them free reign over food. They are the experts, after all," Dumbledore said, and Silas missed the odd look that he gave the young boy.

"Yeah. They do make really good food."

"That they do, that they do. So, I am assuming that you and Draco are really good friends?"

"Yeah. I mean, yes. He’s a little spoiled, but we try to ignore when he gets into those moods."

"We?" Dumbledore asked.

"Stephan and m. . . I," Silas answered, getting another chuckle from the old man for the self correction. "So . . . Severus isn’t angry at me?" he asked, figuring that if Severus wanted him to talk with Dumbledore, nothing was going to go wrong.

"No, he isn’t. Why would you think that?" Dumbledore asked.

"He’s been real . . . snappy lately," Silas answered.

"And he isn’t normally?"

"Not to me. To other people, yeah," he said, and Dumbledore chuckled . . . again. "What?"

"That must take some effort for him. He usually lets his anger out on others."

"Not me," Silas repeated. "He likes me. I think."

"Yes, of course he does. He cares very much about you," Dumbledore assured him.

They ate in silence, except for the music (classical?) that was playing from somewhere in the room, until Silas thought of something and spoke up.

"Isn’t it weird how each time the ghosts showed up, it was somehow connected to that room?" he asked, taking a hot croissant from the basket near his right.

"What room, Silas?" Dumbledore asked after he finished chewing.

"The one near the charms classroom. I first saw Mikey there, and he loved it there. That’s where he spent most of his time, when he wasn’t with me. And that’s where Mum brought me."

"Really?"

"Yes. Do you think it’s because I feel comfortable there? That my magic likes it there?"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore replied. "I will look into it."

"Okay," Silas said and they continued to eat in silence.

"Severus, what are you doing here?" Minerva asked, walking into the staff room. "Don’t you usually correct work in your office or classroom?"

"I am not correcting work. Albus left me some tomes on accidental magic to look through."

"For Silas?" she asked.

"Yes. The accidental magic theory of Albus’ seems a little far fetched."

"Accidental magic?" Minerva asked, confused.

"Albus has not filled you in?"

"He doesn’t talk much about Silas. What is this theory?"

"Albus believes that Silas’ accidental magic has been conjuring the ghosts when he gets overly scared or nervous, in addition to a few other . . . things. But from what all I can find, that takes power. Even more power than accidental apparation."

"Which he can do?"

"He did once," Severus replied, and Minerva thought for a bit.

"I don’t know. He stopped You Know Who when he was one year old. I wouldn’t doubt him being that powerful."

Severus gave her a small glare, but didn’t answer. As he continued to search through the book he was looking through, Minerva sat at the table in her usual spot and began working on preparing for her first year class next semester, knowing that arguing with Severus when he was in that type of mood was not a good thing.

Severus walked slowly to the third floor, pondering what exactly he was supposed to do once he arrived at the room. He had already done many tests, none of them telling him anything, and he was getting anxious. The school year was to end in a month and he was still no closer to learning what caused any of the ghosts to appear. Mind you, he had his theories, but none of the evidence narrowed them down any.

The past few months had been quiet. No stress aside from class work, no unexplainable ghosts, and no dangerous activities. For precautions, though, Severus had cast a charm that was mix between a Peaceful Charm and an Unbinding Charm on the third corridor room. It scared him that all the ghosts were so possessive, and he was hoping that the charm would keep them from their want of his brother and allow a conversation that might be useful. If this wasn’t all over.

The pattern of the ghosts unnerved Severus. Excluding the Chimaera, which he was absolutely positive that Silas had no part in that, the ghosts seemed to be appearing in a reverse order from when they died. First Mikey, then Lily. Of course, it was almost impossible to verify a pattern with only two variables, but with what Severus had to work with, it was his guess that the next ghost would have to be . . . James Potter. He thought this with a sneer. The thought was not pleasant at all.

Walking in and stopping in the center of the room, Severus was deep in his thoughts.

"You’re smart, Snape," he heard a voice behind him sneer. "But . . . why is it that you haven’t found the problem?" Slowly, Severus turned to face a mostly see-through, adult Potter. "Are you sure it’s because you aren’t so blinded by your possessiveness of Harry that you can’t see what is right in front of you?"

"His name is Silas, Potter, and I am not possessive of him. I am his brother and guardian, and I do what needs to be done to make sure he is safe," Severus answered haughtily, annoyed merely by the presence of the younger ghost.

"Harry is my son," Potter stated. "That is my job. I am perfectly capable of taking care of him."

"You are dead, if I do recall. Or do you not remember? You are see-through, invisible to everyone but Silas and myself. And you are not the boy’s father. He has no Potter blood in him." Severus’ voice was dangerously annoyed, but this only seemed to amuse the ghost

"I raised him for a year and a half. Of course he is my son. You didn’t bother seeing him until recently."

"I was never told!" Severus shouted, banging his fist on the table next to him. "Do not presume to know my intentions or what I know! You are just as arrogant as you were before you died! And you have even less right to be, now! You are dead!"

The two glared dangerously at each other in silence, neither daring to speak. Severus was tempted to draw his wand, but he knew that it would do no good on the man in front of him. A downside of him being dead, he thought, wanting so much just to curse him.

"I might be dead," Potter said slowly and quietly. "But as long as I am here, I have every right to get to know my son. I will not harm him."

That said, and before Severus could object, Potter faded out, and with him, the room. Now plunged in darkness, Severus stood still and searched himself for his wand. He needed light. Panicking, he almost cried out, but stopped himself as he was unaware of his surroundings beyond the darkness.

SSSSSSSssssssssssssssssssssssssss

With his heart beating too fast to be healthy, Severus opened to eyes to complete darkness. No, not complete darkness, he realized. A door was open a crack, allowing a sliver of light to reach his eyes. He realized he was in his bedroom.

A dream, he realized with relief. James Potter had not come to claim his brother.

Throwing his blanket off him, he sat up and rubbed his eyes and begged the dream he just had to leave his mind. It wasn’t the first of its kind he had, but this dream felt so real – up until the very end. What did it mean?

Standing up, he realized he was still dressed in his robes, and he remembered that he only laid down for a bit before he and Silas went to the room to see where exactly his magic appeared to be lingering. Severus didn’t believe it would do much good, but Albus had convinced him it was best to test all of their theories.

Straightening his robes, Severus opened his door and left the room, only to find Silas and a completely solid James Potter in a just-started chess game. He debated going back to bed and wondered briefly whether or not this was a dream, but he denied both. He was awake, and he needed to stay awake.

"He says he’s a ghost, Severus," Silas said, looking up, looking worried, from his chess game. Potter turned to look at him, also.

"He is. Have you even told him who you were?" he sneered at Potter.

"No. I was waiting for you. It was impossible as it was talking to you in your sleep."

"So it was real," Severus said quietly to himself.

"Dreams are a lot harder to enter as a ghost than I thought," Potter commented, and Severus stood glaring at him.

"So . . . you’re . . . my dad?" Silas said, trying to put together what he knew.

"One of them," Potter said, looking sideways at the only living adult in the room.

Silas sat there, appearing to be trying to decided where to move next, but he was trying to decided how to act. Severus seemed angry at the fact that his dad was here. He could understand, of course. The last two encounters with these ghosts could have killed him, but something about this one felt different.

"How long have you been around, Potter?" Severus snapped, walking to stand next to his brother protectively, and James shrugged.

"About a month, I suppose. I’ve been watching. Trying to figure out why I’m here. Look, Snape, I don’t like you. Still probably wouldn’t." James spared a look at the eleven year old. "You’re too dark to raise a kid. Too dangerous. I don’t know what Albus was thinking, allowing this to happen, but . . . it’s too wrong for me to approve."

"Once again," Severus said slowly, and Silas could tell he was trying his best to keep his temper under control, "you are presuming. I would never put Silas in a dangerous position. I would never hurt him–."

"I consider teaching him the Dark Arts harming him, Snivellus," James spat walking over to a book shelf, and Severus followed him dangerous, angry. James took a book from the shelf and through it down, much to the surprise of Severus and Silas. In the same movement, James took another and through it to the ground. A few more books landed hard on the ground before Severus came to his senses, and he grabbed James’ arm and pushed his hard out of the way, causing him to land on the ground.

"No!" Silas shouted, trying to stop the fighting, but neither of them were listening to him.

"The topics in those books are dark, Snivellus. Not teaching him the Dark Arts, huh? Not bothering to hide the books from him, either, obviously. Out for him to pick up and browse through at any time. And you leave him unsupervised in here! Do you understand how much damage he could cause?!" He stood up, throwing one of the books at Severus.

"You’re a couple terms too late, Potter. And you have no business–."

"He’s my son!"

"He’s my brother. And you are dead! Can’t you get even that simple concept through your small, useless brain? Or did it fail to solidify with the rest of you?"

"How dare . . . if I was able to perform magic, you’d be so sorry that–."

"That what, Potter? Think you would be able to beat me in a duel? You’d be too weak to . . ."

Severus’ voice was cut off from Silas’ hearing as he shut the door, not too quietly. All his attempts at stopping the two from fighting had failed, so he decided on the only course of action he could think of: go to the headmaster. He wouldn’t be able to see James, his father, but Harry could act as a translator. He also wanted to find out why the two seemed to hate each other so much. Why would his mother have given him to someone whom his brother hated? Maybe she didn’t know that they hated each other? Or because he wouldn’t suspect anything? Nothing added up.

Once he got to the gargoyle, he realized he didn’t know the password, but instead of guessing candy names, he told the gargoyle he needed to speak with Dumbledore and that it was important. He remembered Severus saying something about how the old man had ways of knowing if someone was outside his office. Giving Silas a start, the gargoyle started moving, and he went up the magical escalator as quickly as he could. He only knocked briefly before hearing a muffled, "Enter!" from inside.

"Severus and Dad are fighting!" he said before the man could greet him.

"Dad?" Dumbledore asked for clarification.

"My . . . my Potter dad!" he said. "I don’t know why, but they started fighting as soon as Severus got up from his nap. They’re fighting about the Dark Arts and . . . me and stuff!"

"Well, I suppose we should head down," Dumbledore said, standing up, and Silas led him down to the Dungeons at a quick pace. Silas didn’t knock or bother to see if Dumbledore was still behind him. He opened the door and walked in, having to duck a book. He picked it up, looked at it briefly and handed it to Dumbledore, who had just entered the room and closed the door. Both men seemed oblivious to the newcomers.

"He knows better! He knows what to stay away from, and if he’s unsure, he asks me! I may know a lot of magic that is classified as Dark Arts, but I do not make it a habit to teach it. Especially to children!"

"May I ask whom you are speaking to, Severus?" Dumbledore asked calmly, and both Severus and James turned to look at the older wizard, then Silas, before realizing suddenly that Silas probably heard most of what they said.

"Potter," Severus snapped.

"James? Silas, where is James?"

Silas pointed to the ghost and was taking a few steps toward him to show Dumbledore the exact location when Severus gently grabbed his shoulder to prevent him from going any further.

"He can stand next to me!" James shouted, walking toward Silas to get him away from Severus.

"You are very likely dangerous. All the past ghosts were. I’m not taking the chance."

"Dangerous? I am not dangerous! I would never hurt Harry! It’s you that we have to worry about!"

"Once again, his name’s Silas, not Harry. He has told me himself he doesn’t want to be known as Harry Potter!"

Silas, annoyed with being argued about, gave Dumbledore a pleading look.

"This might turn out to be a difficult situation," the headmaster observed. "Severus? Would you mind taking a seat?"

"Albus . . ." Severus started.

"Please? I do believe the subject of your argument doesn’t wish for any more fighting, so perhaps we can come to an agreement . . ." Severus sat down in his usual seat without any more complaints, but he did not bother masking his face to hide his anger and hatred that he was feeling. "James? The same, please?" Dumbledore asked, and Silas watched at the ghost sat down in across from Severus, as far away as he could get. "Is he sitting, Silas?"

Silas nodded, and Dumbledore indicated that he should sit, also. Finally, Dumbledore sat across from the young boy, assuming that James would not have sat on the sofa next to Severus’ chair. Everyone looked at him expectantly; James and Severus angry, and Silas some mixture of embarrassed, confused, and torn.

"Now, Severus and James, I expect you to think before speaking. Silas is right here, so do not say anything that you will regret. Although, I fear that has already happened. Silas will tell me what James has to say. I do not wish to put him between you two," he said, giving Silas an apologetic look, "but walking into the situation as I did, I do not believe that I can trust you two to keep anything neutral." Giving Severus and a blank space a look, Dumbledore put the book Silas gave him on the small table in the middle of the furniture.

"I do not appreciate my property being thrown around," Severus said flatly, crossing his arms and sitting back. It looked like he was sulking to Silas. James didn’t answer, and Harry answered Dumbledore’s questioning look with a shrug.

"I must say, I was quite surprised when Silas came running into my office asking me to break up the fight that was occurring between you to. James?"

"He can’t be trusted!" James shouted. "He shouldn’t be allowed to raise my son!"

Silas reluctantly relayed this information, looking sideways at his brother to see his reaction to him repeating James’ words. Severus seemed to understand what Silas was feeling, because he stood up suddenly and sat down next to his brother. Visibly relaxing, Silas leaned into his brother.

"Silas appears to trust him," Dumbledore replied, smiling at Severus’ decision to sit next to the young boy.

"Children can be easily blinded," spat James, looking ready to kill Severus.

"I am not blinded!" Silas said, sitting forward and ready to defend himself and his older brother. "He helps me a lot! He’s nicer to me than anyone has been before! He even named Uncle Lucius and Aunt Cissy my godparents, and they are very nice!"

"What?" James said, dangerously, standing up, and Silas backed into the seat again, trying to disappear into Severus. Severus put his arm around Silas, giving him a protective squeeze. "Sirius is his godfather, you b–."

"Sirius betrayed you to the Dark Lord! You really want someone like that, someone who is in Azkaban, to be the godfather to Silas?!"

"What?" James asked, falling back down the his seat, stunned. "But . . . Sirius wasn’t our Secret Keeper. Peter . . . where’s Peter, then?"

"Dead," spat Severus, no sympathy in his voice or face. "Black killed him after betraying you." James looked up from his lap, a haunted look on his face.

"Didn’t you get what I said?" James hissed. "Sirius didn’t betray us! Peter did! That rat was our Secret Keeper! Sirius . . . oh, Sirius, what did you do . . ."

"Silas," Dumbledore said after all he heard was silence for a few minutes. Either James was talking or everything was quiet. "What is happening?"

"He says that Sirius wasn’t their Secret Keeper and Peter was . . . who is Sirius and Peter, and what is a Secret Keeper?" Silas asked, wondering what was going on. Whatever it was, James no longer seemed to have any energy to fight.

"Oh, dear," Dumbledore said quietly. "Oh, dear. James, do you have any proof of this? Where are the papers that were signed by . . . everyone? You did have papers, I hope . . ."

"Hidden in our vault in Gringotts. I don’t know where. Lily hid them."

Silas relayed this information.

"We’ll stop by and have a look tomorrow. It is getting much too late to see to it tonight," Dumbledore reassured James, and Silas still sat there, looking confused.

"Are you sure, Albus?" Severus asked, standing up smoothly. "This could be some plot . . ."

"I doubt that very much, Severus," Dumbledore said sadly. "And if Sirius is indeed innocent, can you truly say that he should still be in Azkaban?"

"He might not have betrayed the Potters, but he still killed all those muggles!" Severus snapped.

"Sirius would never kill!" James argued, standing up to face his childhood enemy.

"No? He went to kill Peter and killed many muggles while doing it!"

"He–."

"Stop!" Silas shouted, standing up and stepping in between the fighting adults. "What’s going on? Who are you talking about? What are you talking about? I want to know!"

"I will explain it later, Silas," Severus said.

"You? You’ll . . ."

"I’ll explain, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly, knowing what type of argument that comment would most likely start between the two. "Perhaps you should leave, James. My office would be a good place, I believe. Severus? Would you escort Silas to his tower and meet me in my office? I believe we should try to find a way for me and James to communicate without a third person."

James took no time to leave the room, and both Severus and Silas announced it with a "He’s gone."

"Come along, Silas. You have homework to finish if we are going to be in Gringotts all day tomorrow," Severus said, giving Dumbledore a look as he ushered Silas out the door. "We will have to postpone our tests in the room for a later date.

"I’m sorry, Severus. You must realize this is important."

"Of course it’s important when it comes to them." Severus looked as if he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself.

"Severus . . ."

"No. If you wish to talk about this – again – we will talk about it later," Severus said dangerously, waiting for Dumbledore to leave the room before ushering a confused and irritated Silas down the corridor to the Ravenclaw tower.

Once they got there and Severus said goodbye, Silas entered the tower to be attacked immediately by Stephan.

"I didn’t think you’d be back so soon," he said. "Did you want to play a game?"

"No," Silas said, distant sounding.

"Are you okay?"

"I guess. I think I’m going to go to bed."

"Already? It’s only seven! Do you need to talk about something?" Stephan asked, worried. "Did you fight with Snape?"

"No," Silas answered sharply, and sighed. "I just need some time to myself to think things over."

"Okay," Stephan replied. "Night."

"Night."

The next morning, Silas wasn’t feeling any better or any less confused. He still had no idea who they were talking about last night, and it was very annoying that no one would tell him. Pulling his blue curtain back, he saw that the sun was only beginning to rise, and no one else was up. No one else would begin to get up for at least another few hours. Most likely, Severus wasn’t up yet and breakfast wouldn’t start until seven. And it really wasn’t in the mood to do any homework.

With nothing to do, Silas got off the bed and went to the bathroom to take a long shower. Turning the water on in one of the stalls and stripping, he realized how much he missed his and Severus’ home. Especially the bath. Hogwarts lacked baths, obviously, or he wouldn’t be taking a shower . . . Well, Severus’ rooms had a bath, but he was rarely allowed to use it. Meany, Silas thought to himself.

Feeling better after the long shower, Silas dressed in casual clothes, not bothering with robes, and left the common room to see if Trimdol and William were up. The professor was often up early. Once he got to the man’s rooms, he knocked on the door quietly, since he didn’t want to wake Trimdol up if he wasn’t already.

"Silas!" Trimdol said, opening the door and looking confused. "How are you? Is something wrong?"

"No, I . . . is William up?" Silas asked, not really knowing why he came. Trimdol gave a small laugh.

"Yes, in fact, he is. Woke me up about an hour ago possessing too much energy to be healthy for a Sunday morning. Come in," he said, moving out of the doorway. William was sitting on the floor playing with miniature toy brooms and people, giggling to some joke only he knew.

"Hi, William," Silas said, sitting down across from him. "How are you?"

"Good!" William said and he continued to play. Trimdol took a chair from a table and moved it next to Silas, sitting on it backwards.

"So, Silas, what’s wrong?"

"Nothing!" Silas said, perhaps a little too quickly.

"Sure," the professor laughed, shaking his head. "And you decided to call at six thirty in the morning because you have nothing to do?"

"Kind of," Silas answered. "It’s just . . . you know the ghosts that have been showing up?"

"Has another one come?" Trimdol asked curiously.

"Yeah. And he hates Severus. And Severus hates him. Dumbledore tried to help them get along last night. I don’t know how well that worked, though, because they sent me back to my dormitory."

"And the headmaster can’t see this ghost?" he laughed, and Silas found it weird that the professor didn’t correct him when he just called Dumbledore ‘Dumbledore’.

"No. I was kind of glad when I didn’t have to be the translator anymore, though. He said a lot of things I didn’t want to repeat with Severus there. They really hated each other! And I don’t even know why!"

"And who is this ghost?"

"My dad. Well, James Potter. So, not my real dad, but he still raised me until he died. They were arguing about me, and I hated it!"

"I’m sorry, child, I can’t help you with that. I’ve never met the man, but knowing Severus, it might have been because of some House issues. I was told the James Potter was a Gryffindor."

"Yeah . . ." Silas said slowly. "But he doesn’t really hate Gryffindors. Finds them annoying, though. I agree, somewhat. Those Weasley twins tease me every time they see me!"

"Remember, they are only two members of the house," Trimdol scolded. "Everyone has their uses and abilities."

Silas looked at Trimdol oddly before looking back at William. He was playing some game and ignoring the two older wizards in the room.

"Right," Silas said slowly. "Still, they were talking about Dark Arts and . . . how he wouldn’t know how to raise me or something. Severus has done a good job taking care of me! It’s really strict, but he cares about me."

"So, Severus does practice the Dark Arts?" Trimdol asked curiously, but almost disapprovingly, making Silas uncomfortable.

"I don’t know. He has to do a lot of potions work. I know he knows some Dark Arts, but he doesn’t use them. He would kill me if I did!"

"I see," Trimdol said, nodded, and Silas relaxed a little bit. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"No, I guess not," he answered. "I’m hungry. I suppose I should head down to the Great Hall. Is it seven yet?"

"It should be by the time you find yourself down there," Trimdol laughed. "The downside of being on the sixth floor. Takes a bit of time getting anywhere." Silas laughed, standing up.

"Yes, it does. Well, thanks for talking with me. Can you not tell Severus I was here, though?"

"Wouldn’t dream of it. He doesn’t like me very much," the wizard said, shaking his head, but smiling.

"You have too much energy, according to him," Silas defended. "And Dumbledore said that he rarely likes the DADA professors."

"Never you mind, Silas. It doesn’t matter to me. I find it rather amusing, actually. I have no doubt that we’ll get along in the next few years."

Silas gave him a doubtful look, but headed for the door. "I’ll see you later," he said. "Although, probably not today. I think Severus is taking me to Gringotts, and we might be there for a while."

"Oh? For what reason?"

"Something about a Sirus person being innocent and looking for papers? I’m not sure." Silas stomach growled, and Harry laughed. "I should go. Good bye."

"Good bye, Silas," Trimdol answered distractedly, fooling with one of Williams miniature broom, and Silas closed the door.

Food arrived on the tables a few minutes after Silas arrived in the Great Hall, just as Severus entered.

"You’re up early," he said, and Silas realized it was his weekend to supervise breakfast.

"Went to bed early," Silas explained, earning a disapproving glare from his brother.

"So I assume you didn’t do you work?"

"No," he sighed. "I couldn’t concentrate."

"We are leaving for Gringotts at nine," Severus said, walking to the head table, some journal or other in his hand. "Meet in the headmaster’s office."

At ten minutes to nine, Severus, Silas and James were sitting in Albus Dumbledore’s office, both James and Severus glaring at each other hatefully. Much to Silas’ relief, neither men spoke to each other. Just to be sure, Dumbledore had asked Silas to mention anything that they do say.

Still upset at not being told anything, Silas sipped at his white tea, which Severus ‘suggested’ he drink without sugar or honey, irritation showing strongly on his face. Aside from his talk with Trimdol that morning, it wasn’t turning out be a very good day.

"Well, shall we go?" Dumbledore asked, walking into the room.

"Finally!" James said, standing up.

"If we must," Severus said.

"Why do I have to go?" Silas asked after taking another sip, refusing to stand up. "I didn’t even know this person."

"Because it’s your vault, Silas," Severus answered angrily. "The headmaster cannot enter without you."

"So, you can’t just go in my place?" he asked, calmed by the new knowledge of his own vault. He was confused, though. Severus was his guardian, so he should have access to it without him.

"I could, but I would rather not go alone with . . . those two," Severus said, looking at James and Albus. "I need some decent company," he continued, getting a chuckle from Dumbledore.

"Yes, yes," the old man agreed. "Quite horrible company I am. Ready, my boy?"

"Fine," Silas answered, standing up after finishing off his tea. Severus was right. It didn’t taste too bad without sweeteners. "Let’s go."

They flooed to the Leaky Cauldron before walking down Diagon Alley to the large building that was Gringotts. They were ignored by all the goblins when they entered until they walked up to a high desk.

"We are here to get into Silas Prince’s Potter vault," Severus said, setting down the large key on the desk. "Most likely, we will be in there for a while. We will be searching for something."

The goblin, after looking closely at Silas, called a different goblin (Silas didn’t catch the name) and they followed him to a boat. Excited, Silas happily got in. He had only been on a boat when he came to Hogwarts for the school year.

"Vault 687," the goblin called, handing Dumbledore a stone and walking to the vault to open it. "When you are finished, hold the stone and say ‘finished,’ and someone will come to bring you back. Do not attempt to leave your vault or the ground in front of it. Protections will prevent you from doing so."

After the three wizards and one ghost left the boat (James going into the vault at an extremely quick speed), the goblin rowed away.

"Well, we might as well start searching," Dumbledore said, but Silas wasn’t listening. He was looking around at the piles of gold and other coins around the large vault. There were other objects, mostly chests, around the outer edge of the room.

"All this is mine?" he asked, amazed, and the adults almost didn’t realize he spoke, as they were busy talking about what they should be looking for. James heard him, though, and became suddenly chipper.

"Yup!" he said, interrupting Dumbledore, although he did not know it. Severus did, though, and had stopped listening to the headmaster in order to reprimand his enemy. "Everything in here’s yours. Most of its money, but there should be a few other trinkets around . . . I must admit I’ve never looked at it all too much. But there’s enough money here–."

"Which you will not touch until you turn seventeen," Severus said, causing the headmaster to stop explaining. The old man looked confused for a bit until he realized that James must have spoke. They did not have much luck the night before finding a way to communicate.

"But . . ." Silas argued, but he was silenced by his brother’s glare.

"You have no need for it, Silas," the brother answered, but refused to say any more on it.

"Fine," Silas finally relented. It wasn’t as if Severus would refuse to buy him anything, within reason. "But do I have to look for whatever it is you are looking for?"

"No, of course, not," Dumbledore said. "I believe Severus has brought you books and your assignments."

"Really?" Silas asked, looking at his brother. He didn’t even think about bringing something to do. His excitedness was short lived, though, when he realized he was to be doing his assignments.

"As you failed to do them last night. I had a feeling you would not like searching with us. After all, you have no involvement in this . . ."

"Of course he does!" James spat angrily. "Sirius is his godfather!"

"Was," Severus snapped. "And it wasn’t even legal!"

"We should start searching," Dumbledore interrupted. "I do believe Severus and Silas would like to leave soon."

"Yes, we would," Severus said, handing a bag of books and writing materials to Silas. Silas automatically took one out, wondering when and how Severus had retrieved his school things from his Ravenclaw dormitory. Reluctantly, he sat on the ground next to one of the flat-topped trunks and dug through the bag for his transfiguration assignment. Might as well get the hardest done first.

Three hours later, when Silas was almost finished with his Charms assignment, James yelled out from across the vault.

"This has to be it! There are invisible charms on it!" he shouted, causing him and Severus to look up from their work (Severus was sitting on one of the large trunks, reading). Dumbledore was, of course, oblivious to this revelation. Silas noticed that Severus went back to reading instead of telling and he sighed.

"Professor, he found something," he said, causing the old man to look at him. James ran to Silas and held out his hand. There was nothing there.

"Take it and give it to him!" James said, and Silas blindly waved his hand in front of the ghosts until he felt something in his hand. Having a firm grip on the thick, invisible parchment, Silas walked over to the headmaster, who was looking at the scene with amusement, and he handed it off to him. After a few incantations and waves of the wand, there was a visible, old piece of parchment in Dumbledore’s hand. He read it through and gave a smile.

"Ah. This is it."

"So . . ." James said impatiently, no standing next to the old man trying to see the paper, which Dumbledore was moving about. Silas laughed then relayed James’ demand.

"So," Dumbledore said slowly, thinking, "I believe we have sufficient proof to force a trial for Sirius Black."

"A trial?" James asked, angry. "It’s all the proof you need! He’s innocent!" Silas repeated this.

"Formalities still have to be taken, James," Dumbledore said softly, taking out the rock and saying, "Finished."

"Formalities," James mocked, annoyed and angry. Silas didn’t bother repeating it.

"How long would that take?" Silas asked, and he saw Severus stand.

"Silas, as we are leaving, put your assignments away," he said, and Silas sighed as he complied.

"I do not know," Dumbledore answered.

On the ride back, Severus was in an especially angry mood. He refused to talk to Dumbledore, who was explaining to an invisible James the possible outcomes of the newly found note, and he ignored Silas’ questions about what was wrong. When they finally reached Hogwarts again, late for lunch, Severus ignored Dumbledore and told Silas to meet him in his rooms.

"Now," he ordered, when Silas started to complain, saying he was hungry.

Silas was especially pleased when he found the table filled with food when he arrived, and he assumed that Severus called a house elf. Halfway through his second plate of food, Severus came into the room alone, much to the first year’s relief.

"It has been decided that you will stay away from Potter."

"What? Why?" Silas asked, putting his fork down.

"It is too dangerous. Remember what happened when Mikey and Lily became solid? You could have died!"

"He doesn’t seem like the other ghosts, though," Silas argued.

"And he might not be. But until we are sure, it has been decided that he will stay away from you. And you will not go looking for him."

Silas didn’t reply. Instead, he continued eating. Severus followed suit.

"Who’s Sirius?" Silas asked after a bit of silence.

"Sirius Black," Severus mocked, "is a murderer. Or thought one anyway," he mumbled. "But even if he wasn’t, he and Potter were bullies, who thought it funny to harm people."

"Oh," Silas said, disappointed. "He could be different now, though, right?"

Severus didn’t answer. Finally understanding why Severus didn’t like James, but still not why James didn’t like Severus, he continued eating. At least he had some information, now.

"I want to see him," James said flatly, entering Severus’ rooms through the closed door, and Severus was stunned for a moment. The ghost was mostly solid and it was unnerving to see him walk through walls.

"Get out of here, Potter," he snapped in reply.

"Or what? You’ll curse me? You know that won’t work," James said dangerously, walking up to Severus and standing a mere few inches from him. "I want to see Silas. I understand the risks, but I have no intention on hurting my son! I won’t do what those other two ghosts did! I just want to talk to him, to get to know him! I have a right!"

"He’s not your son," Severus said without emotion.

"Why do you want to keep him from me? Are you afraid he’ll learn who you really are? Death Eater scum?"

"You do NOT know what you’re talking about!" hissed Severus. "And hee does not need to know the extent of my mistakes! Now, get out!"

"No."

"Potter," Snape growled.

"I won’t leave. I want to visit with him. Someone can be there with us, like Albus. He knows what is going on."

"The headmaster cannot see you. His presence there would mean nothing, and I have no wish to spend any time in your company. Leave."

James made no move to leave. Despite being a ghost, Severus could feel warmth coming off his enemy’s close body and he resisted the urge to fight him physically. It wouldn’t do any good since, if Potter wished it, no one could tough him. Still, refusing to back down, he glared at the slightly taller man.

"It must feel good," James Potter finally spoke, his voice almost a whisper. "Knowing you have the perfect ticket to do whatever you please. Harry wouldn’t believe you could do something wrong, would he? He would vouch for you; I’m sure his word would mean quite a bit, being the Boy Who Lived. Have you told him anything of your life? Of the horrible things, the sins, you have done? You view the Dark Arts as nothing wrong. How long until he follows you down the irredeemable path you follow?"

Severus didn’t answer. He watched as Potter finished his rant then walk of the room, through the closed door once again. Sighing, hurting, he sat down. Silas couldn’t know . . . but Merlin forbid he would allow the child to follow in his footsteps.

And he would not allow Potter to try to break them apart. Silas was his life, now, as odd as it felt to admit that to himself, and he probably would not admit it to anyone else . . . except, perhaps, Silas. Someday.

It was hard not to like the boy. He had gone through so much during his short life of abuse and neglect, yet he still had a childish innocence that most eleven year olds start to grow out of. He never had any urge to hurt anyone and he never seemed to get angry with anyone; he didn’t appear to understand the term ‘hate’ when it came to his own feelings, yet he knew when someone did not like him. Silas, although similar to him when it came to intelligence, was nothing like his older brother in personality.

He cared about him. And as odd as the unfamiliar feeling was, it caused him to feel almost joyful knowing Silas cared about him, too; knowing that he looked up to him. Someday, perhaps, he would learn things about Severus he wished he never knew, and although he hoped that the time would never come, he wished for it to be later, when the boy was older. When Silas was old enough to realize that everyone makes mistakes.

But he already knows some, Severus reminded himself. That dream . . . where I must have taken him to one of the edifices where I lived when I was a young adult . . .

The edifices were magically hidden, interconnected buildings where meetings were held and about a quarter of the Dark Lords followers had lived. It wouldn’t surprise him if they were still being used by some . . . after all, there was a very large potions laboratory and dueling stage. And libraries.

And he knew that the Ministry hadn’t found them. Perhaps I’ll find one and bring Silas, if the libraries are still running. He didn’t doubt it. Those like Lucius Malfoy had money to buy expensive tomes, but those who didn’t often borrowed books, like himself.

Silas had mentioned that in the ‘dream’, Severus had brought him to his room in one of the edifices, although he didn’t know they were called that, and had told him he needed to notify the Dark Lord of his presence. So Silas knew that he was involved with Vol - the Dark Lord sometime in his life. He didn’t seem angry about it, but it was possible that he was too young, too innocent, to understand what that meant. Despite working with first years almost every day, he was never quite sure how much the little brats actually understood about life.

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"Silas!" Stephan called, and Silas looked up from his plate of uneaten food. "It’s ten minutes after."

"What!" Silas said, standing up. "How long have we been here?" He looked around the Great Hall to see that it had quite a bit more students than when he and Stephan first arrived. He noticed that Stephan no longer had a plate in front of him, but a history book. He scowled at his friend for not telling him sooner, grabbed his bag and left the Great Hall. He was supposed to meet Severus in his office at eight, and he knew his brother wasn’t going to be happy.

Knocking on the office door, he let himself in after not hearing any immediate answer. He was late and he didn’t want to waste any time by standing outside the door to be let in, causing him to be even later.

"Sit," his brother said flatly, and he chose a chair next to the desk. There was a copy of the latest Daily Prophet sitting on the desk and he picked it up, absentmindedly. He disliked reading the news; it seemed almost pointless to him. Why would you care if there were 352 reports of rouge marbles if you didn’t buy marbles from a wizarding store in the first place? It was a muggle game, anyway.

Laying the paper out on the side of the desk Severus wasn’t using, he flip the pages while scanning to see if there happened to be anything interesting.

"We are leaving tomorrow at nine in the morning. Make sure you have everything packed," Severus said, nothing bothering looking up from the exam he was grading.

"Can I go to the train station today to say bye to my friends?" Silas asked. He was about to ask again when he heard Severus sigh.

"I suppose you may," he replied and Silas shrugged off the grammar correction. "Tell Hagrid so he can bring you back to the castle. I don’t want to have to retrieve you later."

"Okay." Silas was ready to give up on the newspaper when he suddenly spotted a familiar name in a small corner of the page.

It was a small article; from the way it seemed packed into the corner, it was probably charmed to look smaller than it really was in an attempt to keep most readers from finding it.

"Can I go to Sirius Black’s trial?" Silas asked suddenly, causing his brother to look up, glaring.

"No."

"Why not? He was my godfather. Doesn’t that make him . . . sort of my family? Just like James is still kind of my father?"

"Black is not your godfather and James is in no way your father. And you are not going to the trial!" Severus snapped, causing Silas to freeze in his seat for a moment.

"But why not?" Silas snapped back. "I know you don’t like James and Lily Potter, but Mom must have! They raised me for a year and a half! They are still my family, even if not by blood! They were willing to die for me, not Mom! She gave me up and then she didn’t even bother to claim me again when she knew it was safe! She was probably glad to have gotten rid of me! Even in the dream, she shoved me off on you, not willing to take care of me!"

Severus stood up suddenly, causing the wood chair he was sitting in to fall back hard. Silas, scared that Severus was going to hurt him, flinched, missing the very brief pained look that crossed his older brother’s face. When Severus took two hastened steps toward him, he panicked, running from the room before anything worse could happen.

Oddly enough, when he found himself calm enough to stop running, he was outside the third corridor room; the room where they realized that Mikey, Lily, and James appeared from. The room that, through an spell of his own, he met his biological mother and father. A room that he felt unnaturally comfortable in.

His mother and father . . . to Silas, both were cruel in their own way. His mother by blood died forgetting about him, his father died not even knowing he existed. In the vision, the dream, he knew both.

And he knew Severus. Severus would always protect him, he would never hurt him. He knew this, so why did he say those things about their mother? Although Severus avoided talking about Tobias, the older wizard cared about Eileen. He could tell by the stories he told him over the school year. Yet she betrayed him, too. She never mentioned Silas, probably didn’t even care. Silas knew this, understood this. Severus cared about him, but he didn’t expect anyone else to. He knew his mother didn’t care enough about him to find him, knew his father would have hated him enough to kill him. Or, at least hurt him.

But Silas never meant to say that to Severus. He knew it would cause his brother to get angry, yet he brought it up anyway.

Shaking his head, he entered the room. It was satisfyingly warm, like a hug, and he went to a corner, curled up and started crying. Severus cared for him, but the man wouldn’t, or couldn’t, understand that while Silas knew his parents of blood were Tobias and Eileen Snape, James and Lily Potter were his parents in every other way. It was the one thing that he couldn’t let go from his life as Harry Potter. He was more than willing to give up the Dursleys, the muggle life, and everything that went with it (although, knowing he would be able to watch the telly in a few days when he went home was nice), he just couldn’t give up his parents. They took him in, loved him, and died for him.

"Harry?" he vaguely heard, and he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Harry? Silas? What’s the matter?" Realizing who it was, Silas turned away from the wall.

"Dad," Silas sniffed, and James immediately sat on the floor and pulled his son into his lap, holding him tight.

"What’s wrong? Did Snape hurt you?"

Silas shook his head at the question, enjoying the feeling of being in his father’s arms. It was still hard for him to completely understand that this man who felt so real could be dead. Was dead, and in fact, was see-through if you paid it enough attention. Positioning himself into a more comfortable position, he rested his face in the cloth of his father’s robe.

"Dad?" The sound was muffled through the robes.

"Yes?"

"How come you are still here? All the other ghosts were gone after a short while . . ."

"I don’t know, Harry," James answered quietly.

"Silas."

"What?"

"M’name’s Silas." he mumbled in answer. James didn’t respond verbally; just squeezed his son tighter.

"I should go. I don’t want to miss saying goodbye to my friends," Silas said after a few minutes, and James gave a small excited laugh stood up, still holding Silas. "Hey!" the young boy answered, and he was put down, not gently, but not rudely either. James gave another laugh and spun his son around quickly before giving him a hug.

"What I wouldn’t give to be alive," James whispered into Silas’ hair. "I would have loved to have seen you grow up . . . hopefully I’ll stay for a bit, so I can see you grow more, hopefully into an adult." James let Silas go a few moments later, and the boy gave his dead father a shy grin. The older man’s sad smile grew into a frightening glare . "I wish I could take you from Snape. You shouldn’t be near him. He’ll hurt you, in the end, no matter what he or Dumbldore says." Silas blushed.

"Have you found a way to talk to the headmaster yet?" he asked, changing the subject. As much as he wanted to know why his father hated Severus, he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to know. Maybe it was because Severus was the one alive and taking care of him, maybe it was something Severus did bad . . .

And if it was something Severus did bad, he didn’t want to know. He deduced from the dream that his brother was a Death Eater at one time, but Dumbledore, the figure of Light, trusted him, so he must have stopped . . . right?

"Yes! I should have known forever ago that I can write to him! Have to be careful not to let anyone see, of course . . ."

Silas stopped listening. Now that Severus was brought up again, he couldn’t stop thinking about how angry Severus must have been at him. He knew Severus said he would never send him away, but deep down, he wasn’t so sure. After all, he knew his mother longer, loved her longer. What if . . .

He shook his head, sliding a hand into his pocket to feel his bag of runes and calming instantly. Turning his attention back onto his adoptive father, he open the bag with one had and pulled out a rune. Almost immediately, he dropped it back in. He didn’t want to know what it was ready to tell him . . .

". . . and I was thinking that you’d like to meet Sirius. He’s innocent, after all. He didn’t betray us, and I’m sure he would never kill those muggles. Pettigrew, maybe not."

Silas looked at his watch to check the time, not wanting to think of the subject of his ex-godfather. That was what started the fight with his brother after all.

"I should go," Silas said again. "The carriages will be leaving for Hogsmede in half an hour, and I don’t want to miss my friends . . ."

"Oh! Of course. Run along. Please, visit, Harry . . . er, Silas. That’s going to take some getting used to, I suppose. Don’t tell, Snape, though. He doesn’t want you talking to me, the bastard."

Silas’ eyes widened slightly at the language, but he only bid the man goodbye before turning and leaving to catch up with everyone in the Ravenclaw tower while trying to avoid thinking anything about any of his older relations.

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Silas gave one last wave to his fellow Ravenclaws before turning to the large man standing beside him. He had only been with Hagrid a few times but this was the first time alone with him. Although he had always been nice, it was unsurprisingly unnerving standing close to the extremely tall, unkempt grounds keeper.

"Come ‘long, Silas," Hagrid said, and Silas followed not-too-closely to the weird, flying horse creatures that pulled the carriages. He eyed them suspiciously but with envy. They were rather beautiful, and he longed to pet one.

He was surprised when he first saw them, when he and Severus came to Hogwarts the previous summer. Silas took no notice when none of the professors mentioned anything about them, mostly because they were probably used to them, but when none of the other students had commented on the beautiful creatures, even Draco (who loved to talk about those sort of things), he became suspicious.

He supposed the beautiful wasn’t truly a word to describe them. They were thin and bony, patches of scales on their faces making it appear dragon-like and fur covering most of their body, their wings covered in what he could only imagine as some type of feathers to aid in flying. It was hard to believe that these large creatures could actually, fly, but he imagined they had to. One of the animals stretched it’s wings; the wingspan was huge!

"You can see the Thestrals, Silas?" Hagrid asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah," he answered slowly. "What’s weird about that? Are they supposed to be invisible?"

"They are, ta most," the large man said. "‘Cept those who has seen someone die."

"Oh," Silas said, not knowing what else to say.

"You like ‘em?"

Silas thought about it. There was something that drew him to them. Something about them felt dark, yet he knew they weren’t dangerous. They were peaceful, yet there was something deep emanating from them. Something he couldn’t quite describe . . .

"Yes," he answered without meaning to. "Very much."

"Would ya like to pet ‘em? They’d like ‘hat."

"Sure," Silas nodded, taking a step forward. The nearest Thestrals looked up at him, as if they knew what he was planning.

"Go ahea’," Hagrid urged. "They won’t hurt ya, they’re tame as can be."

Taking the encouragement, Silas walked toward the closest one. It was smaller than most of them, making Silas a bit more comfortable to approach the magical creature. He wondered why he hadn’t read anything about them, yet.

Hesitantly, he reached out toward the neck and petted downwards gently. He jumped a little when the Thestral moved it’s head, but relaxed when the creature rested it’s head on Silas’ shoulder. Realizing it was almost like a hug, he wrapped his arms around the neck as best as his small body would allow, then rubbed it up and down, then slowly moved toward the face.

He moved back to have a good look at the reptilian face and trace the area around the patches of scales. Maybe not beautiful in the common sense, but beautiful just the same.

"We best be movin’, Silas," Hagrid said and Silas gave the Thestral one last pet before waving goodbye and getting into the carriage that it was pulling. Hagrid climbed in also, and Silas was amazed that the large man could fit. Suddenly, the carriages started moving and he leaned back to enjoy the ride. He felt amazingly good.

"You’re a natural," Hagrid said, interrupting Silas’ musings on his new creature-friend. "You ought to come down to my hut sometime, and I could show you many more magical creatures."

"Really?" Silas asked, then looked down, remembering Severus. "Severus and I are leaving tomorrow."

"Well, the invitation is open to whenever you’re at Hogwarts, Silas," Hagrid said with a smile and Silas forced himself to return it. Now that he remembered how angry Severus was, he wasn’t so eager to get back to Hogwarts.

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He spent the rest of the day packing, taking his time as he had nothing to do. He did go down to the Great Hall for lunch and dinner, but Severus wasn’t there either time. Silas couldn’t help but think that it was because of himself.

Because of the lack of activities to do and people to talk to, Silas went back to his dorm to have an early night, but he couldn’t sleep. A few hours later, close to midnight, Silas got up, put on slippers, and made his way to the dungeons, clad in his pajamas. He couldn’t let Severus stay mad with him. Silas knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it if his brother gave him up, sent him to an orphanage or something, even if he deserved it.

Giving the password to Severus’ rooms, he was disappointed to find the candles out, and he walked blinding through the black room, finally finding Severus’ open door. Knowing his brother’s room well, enough, he found the bed easily and climbed in. Finding Severus in the middle of the bed with his back to him, he gave the man a hug, not wanting to loose this.

"Wha?" Severus asked incoherently, woken up suddenly. It took him a few moments to realize that there were arms wrapped tight around his torso, and he both heard a felt the familiar yet uncommon sobs of his younger brother. "Silas?"

"I’m sorry," Silas said, trying to breathe deep. "Don’t hate me. I won’t be bad anymore; I won’t talk bad about Mom anymore, and I won’t ask about Sirius, or Mom or Dad anymore. Please, don’t be mad . . ."

Realizing what Silas was there for, he maneuvered himself so he was facing the young Prince, although he couldn’t see his brother in the lack of light. Enveloping him in a hug, he gave the boy a small kiss on the forehead.

"I’m not mad at you Silas," he whispered. Neither said a word, and Severus continued to hold the child, the boy who was still too small for his age, until the breathing was even and Silas was asleep. Charming a candle to lighten the room very little, Severus conjured a damp cloth and wiped his brother’s face before tucking him under the covers and then sliding under the warm blankets himself. He hadn’t bothered before; he was too tired from correcting final exams. By the end of the day he had merely collapsed into bed and fell asleep.

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The next morning, Severus woke to the unfamiliar feeling of someone next to him, and he turned to find Silas laying awake, staring at him. Checking the time, Severus rose out of bed. Remembering the events of yesterday, he sat back down immediately to face his brother.

"Silas, we need to talk," he said, and gave his brother a comforting look when Silas got wide-eyed.

"Do we have to?" he pleaded.

"Yes." Silas slowly sat up and leaned against the headboard, trying to concentrate on how comfortable the bed was instead of what Severus wished to talk about. "I’m not mad at you," he continued flatly, "but there are reasons why I do not want you to meet Black or be with Potter. Normally, I feel I would not have to explain myself, but I realize you do not understand the extent of the danger both possesses.

"It is very likely that Potter will end up like the other two ghosts, even though it might not seem like it at the time. We do not know the exact affects the spells that were cast on the room might have on him, but it appeared to have prolonged his time here. As for Black," he sneered, "even if he does get free, which I highly doubt, he spent nearly twelve years in Azkaban. Wizards have been known to go crazy after a year, and I highly doubt that Black would have the ability to keep the limited sanity he started with. He would most likely be dangerous, especially if he found out who exactly you were."

"But . . ."

"Silas," Severus warned, and he looked down at the blanket that was covering his legs, wanting to argue, but knowing better than to continue to do so. So he changed the subject.

"What do you know about Thestrals?" he asked his older brother, and Severus looked at him with surprise.

"Why?"

"Well, before Hagrid and I came back to Hogwarts, he let me pet one . . ."

"What?" Severus asked, and Silas shrugged.

"It was really nice. It liked me. Hagrid said I could go down to his hut and see other creatures . . ."

"Silas," Severus sighed. "I realize Hagrid is nice. He’s rather like a large child at times. He knows his own capabilities well enough, but he doesn’t always understand the limitations of others. If you go, I want you to be especially careful. If a creature seems to dangerous, don’t go near it. Understand?"

"Yes, Severus," Silas said, smiling, glad that something finally went his way. "Thank you."

"Where’s Silas?" Trimdol asked the next morning at breakfast, and Severus glowered at the annoying Defense professor.

"Sleeping," he sneered. "He will be eating on the train, later." Trimdol gave a small chuckle at the Potions Master’s attitude. Severus sat down in his usual place and began to serve himself.

"He really is a sweet child, although he does act younger than a boy his age should," Trimdol commented, looking sideways at the said boy’s brother, as if he had been meaning to bring up the subject several times before. "He’s smart, but he seems a little standoffish, don’t you think?"

"I’ve been meaning to speak with you about that, Severus," Filius Flitwick replied. "Perhaps after breakfast and before you leave for the train, we could retreat to my office for a talk?"

"I suppose," Severus replied in an unreadable tone, closing himself off suddenly, and the table fell into an awkward silence, no one willing to broach any subject that would set off Severus’ temper. Everyone at the table continued eating in the uncomfortable atmosphere for a few minutes before the headmaster entered the Great Hall in a very a amicable mood.

"Good morning! I trust . . ." the old man trailed off the second he felt the mood of the table. "What is the matter here?" he asked, concerned. Everyone was quiet until Trimdol finally spoke up.

"Just discussing a few things," he said offhandedly. "Nothing serious, but a little unsettling. The summer here is going to be quiet, isn’t it?" No one paid much attention as the headmaster sat down and began eating as the man was once again looking amused.

"Are you staying here for the summer, Matthias?" McGonagall asked, curious.

"For a bit, before I take William to the wizarding Sibiu in Romania," he replied, receiving looks from everyone, including Severus.

"Wizarding Sibiu?" Filius asked, echoing the majority of the table’s question.

"I have a rather large home there, and I thought . . . oh!" Trimdol said, realizing what the rest of the staff wanted to know. "I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of it, really," he explained. "It’s a traditional wizarding village . . . well, more of a city, really, about 100,000 wizards, all purebloods. It’s a very controlled community, and you have to have special identification to own any land. Most old families own a home there, even if they do not live there. It’s quite different from the muggle Sibiu . . ."

"Are you from an old family?" Severus asked, suddenly interested in the conversation.

"I am, I suppose, but my family hasn’t owned a home there for generations. I’m the first since my great-great-grandfather left," he answered casually. "You should bring Silas to visit, Severus. I’m sure he would love it there; a lot of history to learn, and you have a few distant cousins living there, I’m sure. I know there is a Prince a few houses down, at number 8 . . ."

"I do have a few very distant cousins there," Severus snapped. "None I’ve kept in contact with."

"Well, I’m finished with my breakfast," Flitwick interrupted. "My office, Severus?" he asked, standing up.

"Yes," Severus answered, following suit and giving Trimdol a suspicious glance, unnoticed by the rest of the staff, who were continuing to talk about Sibiu. Walking at what was a brisk pace for the smallest professor, Severus had mostly calmed by the time they reached the third floor, his anger at matters of his family being brought up like small talk changing to worry for his young brother.

"He has done nothing wrong?" Severus asked once they arrived and the door was closed. He sat down across the desk from Flitwick, settling into a comfortable position.

"No, no, not at all. He’s very polite and well behaved . . . except for the few mishaps that you’ve taken care of this year, of course."

"Does he not interact well with his classmates? From what I have seen, they seem to be on good terms."

"Well, that’s sort of where we have the problem," Filius said slowly. "He is not as . . . sociable as I originally thought he would be, and no," he said, raising a hand to stop what he knew would be a tirade from the potions professor, "it’s not because he’s Harry Potter. Talking with him, he is very energetic, and he always seems eager to please and can be very talkative, but he’s not that way with most of the children his age."

"He has his friends. I still don’t see what the problem is," Severus answered flatly, not understanding where this was going.

"I had a student who acted the exact same way as him . . ."

"Would you get to the point, Filius?" he snapped.

"Of course . . . Severus, do you know what his home life was like before you claimed guardianship over Mr. Prince? I believe he is socially, and perhaps emotionally, behind of others his age, which is common effect of neglect . . ."

"I know of Silas’ life with the muggles." Severus’ voice was quiet, and almost regretful.

"And you’ve noticed?"

"Yes."

"Well, I just wanted to make sure . . ." he said awkwardly.

"Thank you."

They both sat in silence for a bit before Severus bid the Charms professor goodbye. They had to leave for Hogsmede in half an hour, so he had to make sure that Silas was awake and ready. He had let the boy go back to bed after their small talk earlier that morning because he was still tired.

Twenty-five minutes later, they were both walking toward the Entrance Hall, their luggage already transported to the train by a house elf, and they ran into Trimdol and William.

"Silas, Severus!" Trimdol exclaimed. "We were just going down to the dungeons to say goodbye. I’m glad we didn’t miss you!"

"Goo’bye!" William said. "Goo’bye!"

"Bye, William. I’ll see you in September, okay?"

"No. Visit," the small boy emphasized, and Trimdol laughed.

"Yes, you really must visit," Trimdol said, smiling at Silas as his eyes lit up. "We would love for you to stay at our home, both of you," he continued, giving a pointed look at Severus. "Perhaps you could convince this old man here to bring you," he said quietly, but still loud enough for Severus to hear, while leaning down to Silas’ ear. Silas laughed.

"Severus isn’t old!" he proclaimed! "He’s only . . ." Silas looked at his brother, suddenly realizing he didn’t know how old the man was.

"We must be going. We do not want to miss the train," Severus said, latching a hand onto Silas’ right shoulder and pushing him gently down the corridor.

"Can we go, Severus? Please?" he asked, but Severus didn’t answer.

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Silas was nearly falling asleep, his head resting in his hand and his elbow leaning on the window of the train compartment. Severus was sitting across from him, reading and looking up from his book every once in awhile to look at his small brother.

"Did you not get enough sleep last night?" Severus asked. "You slept longer than usual, so that should have made up for last night."

"I thought I did. I didn’t wake up at all except for when I came to your room and this morning," Silas answered. "But I’m still really tired. Maybe it’s the train?"

"Maybe," Severus said, not looking convinced. "If you are that tired, just sleep. I will not leave you." Silas smiled thankfully. He was glad that his brother remembered. Even though he really knew Severus wouldn’t leave him, he always got nervous whenever there was an opportunity for something of the sort to happen, like now. It was very possible that the train could stop and Severus could just leave. Sure, he wouldn’t do it on purpose, but that didn’t say he wouldn’t forget about him if he were to go to the bathroom or something. Silas knew he was being irrational, but still.

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The small house was exactly how Silas remembered it. Well, mostly. Actually, he almost remembered it being smaller than it was . . . but nope, everything was how they left it. And now that he had been up and walking for a bit, he was feeling much more awake. Dropping the trunk he was dragging, he immediately walked past his brother and through the back door to the garden. Yup, everything the same back there, too, except the garden needed to be weeded. He closed one eye and scrunched up his mouth, head tilted in an odd cringe, realizing that Severus was probably going to make him do that.

Satisfied, Silas ran back inside and up the stairs, peaking into the library on the way before entering his room. Smiling, he laid on his bed and curled up.

"What were you doing?" Severus asked, entering the room a few moments later.

"Just making sure everything was still the same," he sighed.

"No one has been here since . . . second term," Severus answered, remembering the incident with Mikey, but he didn’t want to bring it up, especially since it would probably lead to talk about Potter . . . "Why would anything be different?"

"Well, you know . . ." Silas started lamely.

"No, I don’t."

"Someone could have broken in and stolen something!" the eleven year old argued.

"No. I have wards on the house to prevent something like that," Severus replied.

"Oh. Well . . . ghosts?"

"No!" answered the professor, trying to hold back a laugh. He wasn’t going to give up, was he?

"Oh."

Rolling his eyes, Severus turned to leave when he heard a laugh and a pillow hit his back. Slowly, he turned around.

"Silas," he warned, walking to the bed to put the pillow back. "Perhaps you need more sleep. I will wake you for dinner."

Sighing, Silas slid under his covers without a fight and watched his brother retreat from the room. He was asleep within five minutes.

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Silas couldn’t remember much, waking up, but he had an extremely vague memory of falling. In an attempt to find a more comfortable position, preferably under his warm duvet, he moved only to find that it hurt. Groaning, he curled up, waiting for the sharp pain in his head to go away, but it only subsided a little bit. Feeling the sun entering his room through the partially opened curtain, he decided he should find Severus. Maybe there was a potion he could take . . .

Slowly he rolled out of bed and managed to stand up. He felt . . . odd. Like he was dreaming or something. He just stood there for a bit, not remembering what he was going to do . . .

Suddenly remembering, Silas made his way out of his room and across the hall and into his brother’s room, not bothering to knock.

"Se–Severus?" Silas whispered, but he didn’t get any response. Standing there for a bit more, he tried again, a little louder. "Severus?" He waited again, and when he didn’t get a response yet again, he slowly walked up to the bed through the darkness, trying his best not to move to fast and cause his head to start pounding worse than it currently was. Slowly, he climbed onto the bed and was disappointed to find that his brother wasn’t in it. Feeling nauseated, he curled up once again.

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"Silas?" he thought he heard from . . . somewhere. "Silas, where are you? Boy!"

Suddenly, the door was opened and light flooded into the room, making Silas scrunch his already-closed eyes even tighter.

"Silas, what are you doing in here?" his brother asked, sounding worried, but Silas refused to move. Silas, what . . ." Severus moved his younger brother a bit, rolling him so he could see his face. He gasped. "What happened?"

"I dunno," he answered. "Hurt."

"You don’t remember anything? Nothing?"

"I . . . I think I fell," he replied. "But . . . I don’t . . ." he trailed off, wanting to go back to sleep. He closed his eyes.

"Silas," Severus said sternly. "Look at me. There you go; open your eyes . . ." Standing up to open the curtains to let some light in, Severus sat down on the bed and examined his brother’s face carefully. Sometime during the night, he acquired a bruise on his forehead and there was a scrape that ran from his temple to the bottom of his cheek, and then from the middle of his neck, disappearing under his nightshirt.

"Maybe a concussion," he said quietly, confused as to how this happened. It didn’t make any sense. "We haven’t even been back two weeks, and you are already getting hurt," he scoffed in a way that could be considered playful if it wasn’t for the situation. "I am going to firecall St. Mungos. Hopefully they’ll be able to send someone over so I won’t have to bring you through the floo. I don’t’ know how safe that will be. Silas?"

"Hmm?"

"Don’t go to sleep. Stay awake, alright?"

"Mmm," was the boy’s only answer. Quickly, Severus walked out of the room and down to fireplace which was connected to the floo and was relieved when they answered immediately.

"What’s the problem?"

"I’m not sure, exactly," Severus answered, impatient. "I think my brother has a concussion, but how he got it, I’m not sure."

"Someone will be right through," the woman said. "You’re lucky, we’ve had a slow night tonight so we have someone to send over. When we’re busy, we usually can’t spare any mediwizards for home calls, unless it’s extremely important."

Severus ignored her and moved away from the fireplace to allow room for the mediwizards. Impatient still, he paced the room. A minute later, a man walked through.

"What seems to be the matter?" the mediwizard asked.

"Follow me," Severus replied and led the man to his room, where Silas had once again curled up. "Silas," he said before addressing the wizard. "I found him like this about five minutes ago. I don’t know when it happened, but he’s slow to respond and he’s physically injured." The man walked to the bed and turned Silas to his back.

"Is there any possibility of someone entering the house unknowingly?"

"No. The wards have been checked several times. No one has been here but him and myself."

After a few spells, and two potions, the mediwizard turned back to Severus.

"You were right, it was a concussion. Good thing you didn’t bring him through the floo." They both watched as Silas slowly sat up. "Silas?" the man asked, and the boy looked at the newcomer curiously. "Do you remember what happened last night?"

"Um . . . I think I dreamed. About . . . climbing out my window, or something. Or up to it. I don’t remember . . ."

Eyes wide, Severus quickly left the room and entered his brother’s. As he remembered from the brief glance in while looking for the boy minutes earlier, the window was open and the curtains partially drawn. Other than that, the room looked to be in perfect order. Of course, the open window was normal, too, so it didn’t say much. Shaking his head, he went back to his room to find the mediwizard sitting on the bed, talking to his brother. Now that he thought of it, the young man did look rather familiar.

"The window is open, but he’s been keeping it open, lately . . ."

"I think I know, Professor Snape," he responded, and Severus remembered: a Gryffindor that graduated five years ago. "It would appear that Silas has been sleep walking."

"Sleep walking," Severus said flatly, and he saw Silas blush.

"Not much of a problem, usually, and it’s not hard to fix, although the cure is different with each wizard, as different things can be the cause. Just firecall St. Mungos and ask for an appointment with Mediwitch Keilly. She specializes in ailments in children. Until then, just watched him. If you see him walking around in the middle of the night, don’t wake him; just make sure he goes back to bed," he said, and Silas scowled. Again, they were talking about him when he was right there! It’s not like he was sick . . . anymore. But then he remembered something.

"I used to sleep walk, I think. When I was younger. They’d used to lock me in some night before . . . er . . . when they think I’d sleep walk."

"Really?" the mediwizard asked. "Odd."

"What is?"

"Well, if he hasn’t slept walked in a while, it is possible he out grew it. Usually, when children sleep walk for a few years and then stop, it doesn’t start up again. Oh, well, I don’t know much about it. Like I said, you best talk to Keilly."

"We will do that," Severus said.

"Good. Well, you will be billed soon, or you can go to St. Mungos to pay. I should be getting back . . . goodbye. Hope you feel better, Silas," he said, then left.

"Silas?" Severus asked again once the man left, and he sat on the bed. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes," he answered, and Severus nodded.

"Okay, then. Get dressed. Breakfast is ready."

Later that day, Severus made an appointment with the suggested mediwitch for the next day for the ‘sleepwalking’ issue and for a full checkup. Aside from the quick check over from the previous year, Silas hadn’t been looked over, and Severus wanted to make sure nothing of this sort could happen again. A thorough examination by a medical witch specialize in treating children, as much as Silas objected, was necessary.

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Silas sat in the small room nervously. He’d heard horror stories from the kids at his primary school about having to go to the doctor – shots, weird instruments that were poked into your ears and nose and mouth, flashlight being shined into your eyes . . . his only hope was that, as this was a magical examination, most of those things would be by-passed. What made him even more nervous was the fact that this doctor was going to be a girl. A girl! It wasn’t long before she walked in, a blue folder in her hand.

"There’s not much record of Silas," she said to Severus. "Has he ever had a full exam?" Severus looked to his younger brother, and Silas shrugged, shaking his head.

"I’m assuming not. And, if he did, it was a muggle one."

"Not as accurate, those," she said, setting down the folder and walking over to Silas. The boy sighed in relief as the mediwitch explained every charm she cast and every other thing she was doing. When he had to take off his shirt and dress pants, blushing, she explained how she needed to check if he had any internal injuries, and that spells weren’t always accurate.

Finally, Silas was allowed to put his clothes back on, and he sat in a chair next to his brother, still nervous, but now because the mediwitch had a worried look on her face.

"Well, I don’t see any reason why he should be sleepwalking, but sometimes that is the case," she told them both. "As much as we know, there are still things we don’t know about the body. Walkless Sleep Tonic should work," she said writing something down and handing it to Severus. "You can find it at the apothecary in Hogsmede."

"I will make it myself," said Severus flatly.

"I don’t think that . . ."

"I am a Potions Master. I believe I can handle brewing a simple potion such as that."

"Oh," she said, surprised. "Alright. Well, other than that, he seems in good health. No longer malnourished, but he is still slightly small for his age. Nothing unexpected, though. Any questions?"

"No," Severus replied, and the witch looked at Silas, who shook his head.

"Well, that’s it, then. Have a good day! If the tonic does work, make another appointment and we’ll work it out . . ."

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Later that day, Silas was sitting outside, reading. It was getting dark, and Severus called the boy in, handing him a potion.

"You are to sleep in my bed tonight," Severus said. "I need to keep an eye on you, which means you are going to sleep now, so I am able to sleep a bit. I am meeting with Lucius early tomorrow morning."

"Can I come?" Silas asked, excited. He hadn’t seen Draco in a week, and he was getting bored around the small house and yard, even with the swing.

"I’m not going to leave you here alone," he answered. Now, put on your pajamas, go to my room, and take the potion. There is a sleeping draught that is laced in the potion, so you will fall asleep rather quickly."

"Okay," Silas answered. "I . . ." he trailed off.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugged. "I’m just not really tired . . ."

"You will be once you take the potion. Now, go," he ordered, and watched with a worried smile as his brother left the kitchen.

Severus never slept well when he was anxious about something, so when he felt the movements of his younger brother next to him, he woke immediately. Turning to face Silas, he looked at the boy carefully, worried. He was laying on his side, looking at Severus with wide, unresponsive eyes.

"Silas?" he asked, position himself so he was leaning on his elbow. The boy continued staring. "Silas, answer me," he said sternly, but there was still no response from him. Slowly, Silas closed his eyes and appeared to fall back to sleep.

Perhaps the potion is beginning to work, Severus thought, laying back down. Still, the reaction was odd. Perhaps a talk with the mediwitch would do . . .

He didn’t fall back to sleep for the rest of the night, deciding, instead, to watch Silas sleep. The boy didn’t look peaceful as he often found him the few nights he decided to check on him, but instead looked stiff, as if he was expecting something. Maybe it was the potion, but that didn’t seem right; it should have relaxed him, if nothing else. Maybe . . .

"Silas?" he asked again, reaching to gently shake his brother to wake him. The boy stiffened slightly before relaxing completely. It was a sudden changed that confused Severus even more. Once again he reached to wake his brother. "Silas? Are you okay?"

"Uh," Silas replied, turning so his back was to his older brother. "Lemme sleep."

Nodding, even though Silas couldn’t see him, Severus relaxed and let his head back down to the pillow and continued to watch the youngest Prince. His breathing was heavy for a minute before it finally slowed down and he turned over to face Severus again, trying to find a comfortable spot.

As Silas no longer looked tense, Severus reached calmly to move the child’s fringe from his face and let his mind wander to other problems.

Honestly, Severus didn’t expect this last school year to be so problematic; the ghosts were especially unexpected. Showing up most likely because of the miscalculated spell of Silas’ at the beginning of the year, and all attracted to that room. Potter hadn’t followed them, so maybe he was trapped in Hogwarts and Severus hoped he was; an entire summer without the partial ghost trying to turn his brother against him would be nice.

But were any other ghosts showing up? Maybe they would have to stop by later. And who would they be? The first ghosts, Mikey, Lily and Potter, all played a significant role in his brother’s life, so it was possible their parents, Tobias and Eileen, would appear.

Severus grimaced. Although he loved his mother, he could do without seeing his father. And what would be the response of both to learn about Silas’ whereabouts? He just hoped their father wouldn’t be dangerous.

"Silas," he sighed quietly, having no intention of waking him up. Silas probably wouldn’t be happy about meeting Eileen, if she did come back. He basically stated before that their mother abandoned him and that he’d rather think of Lily and Potter as his parents.

Severus didn’t want to admit how much that hurt, even though he knew he and Silas were getting close. As it was, though, it was more of a guardian relationship than a brother relationship, and part of him didn’t want that. More now than ever he wished Eileen had said something – he would have prevented their father from doing anything harsh. He knew he could have. Damn the bloody worries and that stupid dream of Silas’ and damn the Dark Lord. If only he had visited home more often to see her, more than once a bloody year, than maybe he would have noticed and been able to do something about it! He was sure he would have seen through any illusions she placed on herself to hide her pregnancy.

Not able to stay still anymore, Severus stood up roughly and dressed in a simple black robe before going downstairs and out of the house to the garden. He walked around the house once before spotting Silas’ swing and sitting down roughly on it. Swinging back and forth slightly, he tried to turn his thoughts to something a little less personal.

Like Trimdol. Still slightly personal, as Silas liked the fool and his son, but not nearly as much. Quite honestly, he had been expecting something to happen to the man before school let out as something had happened to every other one in the past, yet at the end of the third term, he was still at the school, ready for the summer holiday and to begin preparing for the next year.

Perhaps the DADA curse was countered somehow. Severus’ spirits lifted slightly. He had been wanting the Defense position since before he actually started teaching, but he had been denied it, year after year. He knew it wasn’t because he wasn’t qualified; he was much more qualified than any other whom applied. There was a possibility that the headmaster still didn’t fully trust him, but it was much more likely that it was because the old man was afraid something terrible would happen should he get the wanted job.

If the curse was somehow nonexistent, it might mean that he would have a chance at teaching defense, if only he could get rid of Trimdol somehow. His own suspicions about the man were voiced many times to Dumbledore and Lucius, and even Lucius questioned the headmaster about his choice in the position.

Realizing he was swinging a little harder than he intended, Severus slowed the swing by dragging his feet in the grass. He never really liked swings, but he supposed he could see how Silas spent so much time on it. It was a way to release energy and think and the same time without having to watch where he was going as he would have to if he were walking. He was just glad, now, that no one was around to see him swinging like some child.

Leaving the swing behind, feeling better, he reentered the house and went back to his room to check on Silas. The boy was sitting up in bed looking confused.

"You alright?" he asked, and Silas looked at him before nodding.

"Yes. I’m hungry, though," he replied.

"Get dressed, then, and I will start breakfast. We need to be at the manor in a couple hours, so dress properly," Severus said before turning around and descending the stairs once again, looking over his shoulder has he went down.

He made breakfast simple: eggs, toast, sausage and orange juice, and he didn’t bother to take out the jam. Severus didn’t eat toast, and Silas preferred his either plain or with a small amount of butter . . . By the time he was finished making the food, Silas still wasn’t in the kitchen, so he put everything the table, sat down and waited.

Silas came bouncing into the kitchen five minutes later, hair still wet from a quick shower and obviously excited. He sat down and began eating, and Severus watched him, surprised at his sudden change in attitude.

"Why are you so . . . bouncy?" Severus asked and Silas froze, looking at his brother.

"Well, I’m seeing Draco today! I haven’t seen him in a long time!"

"Four days, Silas, is not a long time," he pointed out.

"I’m normally see him every day, though! And Stephan. Oh, I forgot!" Silas said, standing up quickly and leaving the room before Severus could stop him. Shaking his head, Severus continued eating. A minute later, the eleven year old ran into the kitchen again, stopping only when he came to the table, almost causing his glass of orange juice to fall over.

"Silas! Calm down! You’re going to ruin something!" scolded Severus, and the boy sat down. Looking ashamed, he slid the folded piece of parchment over to Severus.

"Stephan’s wondering if I can visit sometime, or if he can visit here. I haven’t seen him all summer!"

"Two weeks," Severus cut in.

"Please?"

Severus had to close his eyes to avoid agreeing suddenly. Silas had such a pitiful look on his face it would be hard to refuse.

"I suppose, although it would be best if he came here," Severus answered, not bothering to look at the note he was passed. More like, he didn’t want Silas away from him or the Malfoys too long than for any other reason not to go to the young Ravenclaw’s home. He recognized a sense a possessiveness for his brother that he pushed down.

"Thank you!" Silas said, excited once again, grabbing the letter and putting it in a pocket.

A few hours later, Silas tumbled through the floo into Malfoy Manor, Severus not far behind him, where Lucius was waiting.

"Hello Uncle Lucius!" Silas greeted. "Where’s Draco?"

"Hello, Silas," Lucius responded. "I believe he’s in his room, unless he wandered off. If you cannot find him, call a house elf."

Silas bounded out of the room without another word, and Lucius gave a small laugh.

"Can’t keep them apart, can we? Odd, though, in his letters, Draco never talked much about Silas," Lucius contemplated.

"They didn’t spend much time together," Severus told his friend. "They would talk at meals, sometimes studied together. He has his own friends in Ravenclaw and Draco has his own in Slytherin."

"Yet they can’t stand to be apart for more than a day," Lucius commented, shaking his head. "Draco has been asking when Silas was coming by since he left a few days ago, almost constantly."

"Silas has been asking several times a day . . . there has been problems lately. Sleepwalking. Yesterday morning I found him in my bed, bruised, cut and with a concussion – yet, there was no physical proof in the room as to how he got any of it."

"You have been to St. Mungo’s?"

"Yes." They two men sat in silence for a bit before Severus began talking again. "His window was open, and he said he remembered a dream about climbing out of the window. I checked the area outside and there was no sign of him having fallen. I warded the window, though."

"Best you can do, I suppose." Another pause. "Albus Dumbledore will be here soon, by portkey," Lucius said bitterly.

"Ah. That’s why you want me here," Severus said.

"It has been eight years. I thought he wasn’t going to come anymore."

"Yes, but now you’re the godfather of the bloody boy-who-lived," Severus responded. "He probably wants to make sure you haven’t regressed back to the Dark Arts, of course."

"Or he has news. He offhandedly suggested you come, meaning he wants you there. Did you know there is talk of the Triwizard Tournament at the Ministry? There has already been talk with the other schools . . ."

"No," Severus said, worried.

"Fifteen and older only," Lucius reassured him. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Yet," Severus answered. "How long from now? Two, three years?"

"Probably two. Any preparation will only take a year or so . . . but I don’t see Silas wanting to enter."

Severus sighed.

"He will want to. He likes challenges."

"I don’t think you have anything to worry about," Lucius answered. "Let us go to the room the headmaster will be arriving in. He wants to make sure this meeting is secret, even from the boys. Narcissa will keep them occupied long enough."

Severus followed Lucius up three flights of stairs and down a corridor where only every fourth candle was lit. It was obvious that no one but house elves have been down here for quite a bit of time.

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"Hi, Aunt Cissy!" Silas said, going into Draco’s room and finding his godmother sitting on Draco’s bed. Draco was still in his nightclothes and they were playing a game with the chocolate frog cards. Silas laughed.

"What?" Draco asked, offended.

"You’re still in pajamas!" he answered. "I’ve been up for hours!"

"So? Since when do you get up so early?"

"Boys," Narcissa sighed. "Draco, you should get dressed, especially since Silas is here. Are either of you hungry?"

"No, Ma’am," they answered together.

"Okay. When you are ready, go outside to play for awhile. There should be enough to keep yourselves occupied out there."

"But Mother," Draco said, and Narcissa gave her son a warning look.

"I don’t want any arguments, Draco. You have been staying inside constantly for the past few days. I will call you in for lunch, and I will send Dobby to watch you."

"We don’t need a minder!" Draco argued, but Silas just shrugged, not wanting to get in trouble. Narcissa shook her head, stood up and left the room, closing the door. In a huff, Draco opened his wardrobe, pulled out a green robe and some underclothes and changed quickly.

"Let’s go, Silas. Maybe we can get out there before Dobby so he can’t find us," he said as he pulled Silas out of the room by his arm. He let go when Silas started running toward a back door, leading, and Draco ran to catch up. "Since when were you so fast?" Draco asked as they continued to run as far away from the house as possible.

"I’ve always been faster than you, Draco, on ground and broom!"

"That’s not true!"

"Yes it is! Look! It’s going to rain soon, I think!" Silas said, looking at the gray sky. "Maybe we should go in."

"Why?" Draco asked, stopping and sitting on the grass. Silas followed suit, but laid down to look up at the sky. "My mother sent us out here. She said not to come back in until lunch!"

"Maybe she didn’t know it was going to rain. It wasn’t like that when I got up this morning."

"You live in a different place, Silas, of course it looks different," Draco scolded. "But look, it might be fun to stay out in the rain for a bit. I was never allowed to before, and now we can’t get in trouble because we were sent in here! My mother rarely pays attention when I’m outside, unless she’s watching me fly or something, but she’s sending Dobby, so we don’t have to worry about that . . ."

"What about the house elf, though?" Silas reminded him. "He’ll know that we should be outside and tell us to go inside!"

"We can ignore him, you know. He’s just an elf. He’s just out here to make sure we don’t get hurt any anything. I never listen to the house elves," Draco said smugly, as if he believed that following the orders of a house elf was beneath him.

"I guess," Silas said with a little hesitation. "We never got in trouble for not listening to them before." Finally, he shrugged, making up his mind. "Okay. I’ve always wanted to play in the rain. Maybe we can have a mud fight!"

"Yeah!" Draco said. "Person who is the least muddy by lunch wins!"

"We have to wait for it to start raining, though," Silas pointed out, and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Of course. What do you want to do until then?"

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"Before you start talking about what you are here for, I have a question," Severus said and he waited for Albus to nod his consent. "Is Trimdol working at Hogwarts next year, as the Defense professor?"

"Yes," Albus nodded. "He is planning on moving back to Sibiu in a week, I believe, and he will come back to Hogwarts early. Any reason?"

"Don’t you find it odd?" Severus asked. "You haven’t been able to keep a professor in the position for more than three terms as long as I can remember, but Trimdol is going on his fourth?"

Albus sighed and looked sadly at the potions professor.

"Severus, I have checked everything. Professor Trimdol is clear. If you wish, keep an eye on him because there could always be something I missed, but do not worry about it."

Severus hid his emotions carefully. He had assumed that it would be the headmaster’s response, but it wasn’t the one he wanted. He listened on as Albus questioned Lucius about what he has been doing lately, how he has been doing, and all the other questions that Severus had to respond to several times a year, but he kept his thoughts on other things.

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Silas was just getting off his broom when he felt the first raindrop land on his cheek. Standing still, he waited for more. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Draco doing the same. The rain came down slowly for about a minute before it started a little harder. Excited, Silas jumped up and down, letting his broom fall to the ground.

"I bet you can’t catch me!" Silas shouted, and he started running further away from the house, toward the woods that blocked the wizarding world from the muggle world (plus charms to keep muggles away, of course). The edge of the woods weren’t as well kept as the rest of the yard, so that meant there were patches of dirt that, once it got wet enough, they could start attacking each other with.

"Young Masters, please! Inside! You must not stay out in the rain!" Silas heard Dobby yell, but he ignored the elf in favor of grabbing a bunch of now completely wet mud and holding it behind his back as he turned to face Draco, who had just begun to run toward him. He just stood there with a smile on his face, and as soon as his friend was within arm’s length, he reached out to slap the mud on Draco’s clothes.

Getting a playful look of anger on his face, Draco didn’t even bother reaching down to pick up any mud. Instead, he rammed in to Silas, pushing him down onto his butt. Laughing, Draco didn’t see Silas go to kick him, and he unexpectedly landed belly first in the mud.

"Hey!" he exclaimed before he got to his knees and tackled Silas. The continued to roll around in the mud for a few minutes, getting each other covered entirely with mud. Even their faces weren’t spared. Having fun, though, they didn’t stop and continued with their wrestling.

"Stop! Stop! Young Masters must stop fighting!" Dobby yelled over the rain and thunder. "Stop!" Ignoring the house elf, the two boys didn’t realize when Dobby popped into the house to where Narcissa was sitting, reading.

A minute later, Narcissa was walking outside toward her son and godson in a rushed manner, a large umbrella charmed to stay over her to avoid getting wet. She didn’t know what to expect when she found the boys at the edge of the woods, but finding to the two laughing, covering each other with mud was not it.

"Draco! Silas!" she snapped. "Stop this nonsense at once!"

Suddenly aware of the newcomer, Silas and Draco stopped their playing and turned to face the intruder.

"Inside. Now!" she said, nearly a yell to be heard over the now-pouring rain. Reluctantly, they stood up and obeyed, watching some of the mud wash off of themselves as they walked back to the house. In order to avoid tracking it through the main part of the house, Narcissa pointed them through a not-much used door and told Dobby to clean up the trail of mud afterwards. On their way to the ground-floor bathrooms to clean up, they ran into Lucius and Severus.

"What happened here?" Lucius asked harshly and the boys earned a glare from Severus.

"They were fighting," Narcissa offered.

"We were playing!" Draco refuted. "We were having fun!"

"There are other ways of having fun than getting messy," Severus answered.

"Correct," Narcissa answered. "And I will have no more of this in my house."

"And no more playing in the rain. You know better than that, Draco," Lucius scolded, looking coolly at his son, then at Silas. "Understand?"

"Yes, sir," they answered.

"Go clean up," Lucius told them, and the three adults watched as the children found the bathroom and closed the door.

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Severus and Silas spent the rest of the day at the manor, and at six, they gathered around a dining table for dinner. Severus noticed Silas walk in nervously, Draco not far behind and looking a little scared himself. Looking at the Malfoys, he noticed that they noticed, too. Severus knew it couldn’t be from the mud fight earlier that day as the boys had shown no remorse in their actions before.

"What is the matter?" Lucius asked, and Draco shook his head. Silas, on the other hand, seemed willing to give up information.

"We were looking through the Prophet today . . ." he started, but seemed stuck. He threw an anxious look at his brother before looking down at the table in front of him.

"Black’s trial was two days ago," Draco spoke up, saving his surrogate brother from having to explain. "He’s free."

Severus knew that if he had been holding something at that moment, he would have dropped it. He felt every muscle in his body first relax completely, then tense up. He closed his eyes and grabbed the table.

"What?" he asked harshly. He felt Silas beside him moving away, slightly, at the word.

"He’s not entirely free yet," Draco continued quickly, noticing his godfather’s reaction. "They want to make sure he’s stable, so they are going to test him and keep him at St. Mungo’s until they are sure he is . . . they said it might be a while because of how long he was in Azkaban."

"Sirius," Narcissa said thoughtfully, earning a glare from her husband and friend. "He is my cousin," she defended herself. "We were fond of each other growing up. I know you don’t like him, Severus, but surely even you cannot condemn an innocent man – the last of the line of Blacks, at that – to Azkaban.

Severus knew what he wanted to say, but he refrained as Draco and Silas were in the room. No one spoke and finally, dinner was served. Severus dutifully ignored the other four in the room in order to pay full attention to his meal uncomfortably. Soon afterwards, they said their goodbyes and went home.

"Severus?" Silas asked, stepping closer to his brother after they were both through the floo. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Severus replied flatly.

"Are you sure? I . . . it’s not as if I have to see him, you know. I know you don’t want me to . . ."

"And you won’t," he snapped. Taking a step back, Silas nodded before going to his room. He was tired and he wasn’t in any mood to do anything, so went to the bathroom to get ready for bed, took his potion, and went to his room so he could sleep. He reasoned that Severus wouldn’t want to be around him yet, even though Severus said earlier that day that he was going to spend one more night in Severus’ room to be sure the potion was working. Tired, and drugged by the potion, Silas buried himself completely under the covers and fell to sleep almost immediately, despite the thoughts running through his head.

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Severus paced his room, trying to get total control over his emotions. He knew it wasn’t just the fact the Black was a bully that made his angry was angry, but because he knew that the man would ask about Harry Potter. And Dumbledore would most likely tell him, even though it is against Severus’ wishes.

He wanted to rip his hair out. Or, at least walk outside for a bit, but it was raining hard at the moment. It wasn’t until five minutes more of pacing did he realize that Silas was probably in bed by now – in his own bed. Sighing, he checked the bathroom and was relieved to find an empty bottle of what was the potion Silas was supposed to take. He remembered that, at least.

Severus was surprised to find the boy’s bedroom door closed; usually, he left it open a crack. Knocking quietly and not getting an answer, he entered the room, leaving the door open to let in light. He drew in a sharp breath when he didn’t see his brother in bed at first, but then he realized that he boy was completely under the covers. Shaking his head, Severus pulled the blankets down to his chin.

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Silas woke the next morning tense, as if he forgot something important. Laying in bed for a few more minutes, he couldn’t remember needing to do anything other than make sure Severus wasn’t mad before he approached him, so he crawled out of bed. He jumped when he noticed Severus standing in the doorway.

"You’re awake, I see," he said. "Did you sleep well?"

"I don’t know," Silas answered, rubbing his eye. "I don’t remember waking up, but I’m still tired . . ."

"You’ve slept two hours longer than usual. That could be part of the reason." Severus turned to leave.

"Wait!" Silas said. "Are you okay? I know . . ." Silas couldn’t continue. Honestly, he had no idea how to confront his brother about Sirius Black. It wasn’t that he was scared Severus would get mad at him but because he didn’t know how to . . . comfort him.

He doesn’t need comforting, Silas told himself. He’s an adult. You don’t need to take care of him.

"I am fine," Severus snapped, then he took a deep breath. "You do realize why I don’t want you to meet him, correct?"

"Because you don’t like him?" Silas supplied.

"Mostly," Severus answered, sitting down on the bed and indicating to Silas that he should do the same. Seeing no other choice, in his mind, he decided on telling his brother the full truth. "As loathed as I am to admit, Black was your godfather and once he’s released, he will start looking for you. The headmaster might even tell him who you are. Once Black finds out, he will start looking for ways to take you away from me."

"But what if he doesn’t?" Silas asked without thinking and he quickly covered his mouth. Severus, expecting a question like this, was able to hide his slight anger easily. "I mean, what if he’s forgotten about me? Did he know who I was when I was adopted? Does he know that I was adopt?"

"I do not presume to know what Black does," Severus answered flatly. "Knowing his connection with the Potter, he might have, but . . . I’d rather not take chances."

"Alright," Silas answered, and Severus heard the disappointment in his voice. He forced himself not to relent.

When did I start to feel the need to please him? Severus wondered. That was odd – understandable now, of course – how when he first took Silas in, he promised himself he would take care of him, but that’s it. He didn’t want to become emotionally attached, but want had nothing to do with it, obviously. It was the how it happened that caused Severus to wonder if there was some sort of magical bond between magical siblings . . . it was something to look into. He knew he didn’t know Silas that well. Not as well as he would like, anyway. They had only known each other for a year. For some reason, the logical part of his brain was trying to convince him that a bond that tight shouldn’t be made that quicky. He pushed the thought away.

"Dress and come down to eat," Severus said. "There is a letter waiting for you; it arrived about an hour ago."

"Really? Who’s it from?" Silas asked, excited. We’ll have to work on him controlling his emotion, Severus thought at the sight of Harry bouncing on the bed.

"I did not look," he responded truthfully before leaving. Silas was in the kitchen a few minutes little, and he opened his letter immediately.

"It’s from Professor Trimdol!" Silas announced. "I knew it!" Silently, he read it through, ignoring his brother’s annoyed look.

"Can we go?" Silas asked. "He said he is only staying in Sibiu for two weeks, and that we are invited for the entire time!"

"Only two weeks?" Severus asked sarcastically. "Do you think you will live that long without seeing Draco?"

Severus meant it as a tease, but it got Silas thinking seriously. He didn’t know what the two children were going to do when they wouldn’t be able to see each other almost every day. They seemed to dependant on each other.

"I guess . . ." he answered. "Yeah, I think so. So can we? Please?"

Severus gave his brother the usual glare when Trimdol was brought up and mentally rolled his eyes. Maybe Severus could get something useful out of this.

"I will think about it," he answered vaguely.

"You’re going to Sibiu for two weeks?" Draco asked. "I had no idea Trimdol lived there. Do you know where?"

"Well . . . not really. Severus knows, I think. Professor Trimdol wrote him."

"I can’t believe you’re going there! We own property there, of course, but we rarely go. The house is small and the neighbors are too close – no privacy! At least, that’s what Father says; mostly those purebloods who don’t have a lot of money. They may be proper wizards, but they aren’t of decent status."

"Right," Silas answered, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, we’re leaving tomorrow. Severus only just told me this morning, or I would have told you earlier."

"Tomorrow! But that leaves no time to prepare! And what about me? What will I do for two weeks?"

"I’m not the only one who visits you, Draco. We’ll be fine. But don’t forget to owl me! I don’t know if they have any owls I can use there, so I might have to wait until you send me a letter to write you."

"That’s stupid," Draco said. "Of course there’s owls in Sibiu! Might be house elves, too, but maybe not in all the houses. You are not going to be near muggles," Draco said, leading Silas to a small dining room. Severus said that the Malfoys were hosting a Leaving Dinner for them, a common tradition among wizards. Like the Leaving Feast at Hogwarts, only – according to Draco – better.

Severus wasn’t at the table, yet, and neither were Aunt Cissy and Uncle Lucius. There were a few house elves, preparing the dining room, all of whom jumped at seeing the two young boy enter so early. Draco just stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, but Silas watched with interest. Despite spending so much time at Malfoy Manor, he had only seen a few house elves; mostly only Dobby. Never had he seen them work before, and the way they were setting the table was . . . almost like a dance. It was very rehearsed, anyway, if nothing else.

The white tablecloth was magically hovered over the table, then the four house elves manually straightened it, setting the creases in the correct spots with an occasional ‘snap’. A black length of cloth, embroidered with some white pattern, was carefully placed down the center of the table and silver candles and a few assortments of decorations were floated down onto it. With the snap of a finger, the plates, glasses, and flatware seemed to set themselves.

"It’s not that interesting, Silas," Draco drawled.

"I’ve never seen the house elves work like that, before," he answered, and Draco shook his head.

"You really must get a house elf or two. It would be so much easier!"

"Severus would probably get annoyed with it . . ." Silas answered, watching the elves put the finishing touches on the room. "I don’t like him annoyed."

"Come on, Silas," Draco said suddenly, pulling Silas along. "We need to get dressed."

"We are dressed," Silas answered flatly.

"No, for the dinner! Uncle Severus brought you extra clothes, remember?"

"No . . ."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Right. Alright, then, I’ll explain to you later. Dinner will start soon, and we can’t be late."

"I still don’t understand the point of dressing in different clothes for a meal," Silas grumbled, following Draco out of the dinning room, through the now-familiar maze of corridors to Draco’s bedroom, where a bag of Silas’ – which he now remembered his brother bringing – was sitting on the floor next to the foot of the bed. Opening it, he found one of his nicer sets of robes and shoes.

Quickly dressing, Silas and Draco walked silently down to the dining room.

Severus, Uncle Lucius and Aunt Cissy were all in the room when they arrived, sitting and talking. Aunt Cissy gave a smile when they entered, and Uncle Lucius a small nod. Suddenly timid, Silas smiled back and sat down next to his brother.

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"Severus?" Silas asked after they arrived home. "Why do people dress differently for dinner? I remember the Dursley’s used to, too . . . not that I was ever allowed," he grumbled. "It’s just eating."

"Tradition, Silas," his older brother answered, and Silas shrugged.

"Can I swing?"

"If you wish," Severus answered and he watched as his little brother slowly walked out of the sitting room and out the back door. Odd, Severus thought. Silas was usually a bit more . . . energetic than that. Worried, Severus followed and, of course, found him swinging. Taking a chair from next to the house, one that Severus sometimes used to read outside, he placed it next to the swing and sat down, watching.

"Silas?" he asked after a bit. "Are you feeling alright?" Severus, trying to be patient, waited for Silas to decided to stop swinging so forcefully before speaking up again. "Silas?"

The young boy shrugged. "I suppose . . . well, I’m not going to see Draco for a long time. And then . . . Draco said something about Sibiu. Is it safe to go there?" Silas asked with hesitation.

"What do you mean?" Severus asked. "I am positive that if the Malfoys knew something was about to happen there, they would warn us."

"Not something that’s going to happen. Draco said . . . he said muggleborns and halfbloods aren’t allowed there. That only purebloods can live there and that anyone else who did try to live there died."

Severus sighed, wishing – not for the first time – that the Malfoys would put aside their dislike for muggles and their obsession with their pure blood line.

"Silas, that was a long time ago," Severus answered, not intending to explain more, but at the disbelieving look on his brother’s face, he realized he had to if the next two weeks were going to fly smoothly. "Over seven hundred, in fact." He sighed, deciding to start from the beginning. "About a thousand years ago, wizards in Sibiu separated from the muggles for many reasons. One, many of the muggles that knew of wizards and witches disliked the education the wizards were teaching their children. Two, the wizards were becoming annoyed with the muggles and the increase of squibs born in families – which were believe to be caused by the negative energy from the muggles – and wished to form pureblood lines." Severus shook his head at Silas bewildered look, and Severus realized that his brother must not know much about squibs.

"Do you know what a squib is, Silas?"

"A different kind of muggle?" he asked, and Severus nodded.

"A muggle who is born to a wizard and a witch, looked down upon for the inability to use a wand. Most squibs do have some magic, mind you, but not nearly enough to be accepted at any school of magic."

"Oh," Silas answered. "So . . . these muggles wanted to live in the wizard part of Sibiu and the wizards didn’t want that?" he asked, wondering why they didn’t learn problems like this in History of Magic. Binns and his stupid love for wars . . .

"Not quite so simple. As Diagon Alley is hidden in London, wizarding Sibiu is hidden in the muggle Sibiu . . . only it’s not so accessible, for many reasons.

"The purebloods kept the village clean – for the lack of any better word – for a few hundred years, but they assumed the damage had been done already – no more squibs than usual were born, but the situation did not become any better.

"A family of four – a witch, a wizard and their two magical children – were a powerful family in the 1200's. Despite the wizarding being a halfblood and the witch a muggleborn, they were granted permission to live in Sibiu. Seven days later, the entire family was found dead."

"How?" Silas asked. "People don’t just die."

"A curse is rumored," Severus answered, "as for seventy years after the first incident, almost 150 unpure families died in the same manner."

"And muggleborns still wanted to live there?"

"It’s a prestigious place to live, Silas. The deaths were mostly kept silent by the Sibiu Ministry, as at the time, it was usually the muggleborns who had the money to buy land and not the purebloods. After the deaths continued, though, a ban was issued and only those of pure wizard-blood were allowed to live there."

"So . . . there’s a curse?"

"I doubt that," Severus answered. "More than likely, it was a group of wizards who did not wish for their ‘squib’ situation to worsen and decided to take care of it when the Ministry refused to help."

"Oh. So . . . it is safe?"

"Yes. We would not be going if it were not."

"Good," Silas sighed with relief, then looked questioningly at his brother. "How do you know so much about it? Did you learn in History of Magic? I hope that Binns will teach us something more interesting than what we’ve learned last year."

Severus blanched for a half a moment, uncertain of what to say.

"No, not at Hogwarts. Having a friend such as Lucius, you learn those sorts of things."

"Oh," Silas said again, and Severus was relieved when he did not ask anymore questions about it. Any more curiosity – it could bring up topics he’d rather not have Silas know. "Have I walked in my sleep, lately?" Silas asked instead.

"No," Severus answered. "Not that I found. Any reason why you might?"

Silas shrugged.

"Just odd dreams, I suppose. Me looking through books and talking with strange people. Strange, but almost real." Silas answered. "Do you think the Thestrals are alright?"

"The . . . why?" Severus asked, confused at the sudden change of topics – again. Silas shrugged again, and he almost snapped at him to stop that.

"I sort of miss them. I know I only met them once, but . . . what would it be like to ride one, do you think?"

"You will not be riding one," Severus said forcefully. "Not when it is flying. Perhaps if Hagrid can ensure that it will not fly . . . but no. Too dangerous."

"Why not? I can fly on a broom decent enough. Why not the thestral?"

"Because you won’t be in control. Any sudden turn could be dangerous! Maybe people have died riding a flying thestral. They almost weren’t allowed to be used by the school for that very reason!"

"I was just wondering," Silas said, pushing off the ground a little with his foot, causing a slight swinging motion. "I was having dreams about them, too. Different than the others, but nice."

"Everyone has dreams." Severus’ voice was beginning to get annoyed, but Silas had no idea why.

"I know," Silas answered, and the two were silent for a moment while Silas swung a bit more before stopping completely and getting off only to stand and stare at his older brother. Slowly, Severus raised an eyebrow and Silas smiled, walked over to the chair he was sitting on and – to Severus’ surprise and slight annoyance – sat on his lap and gave him a hug.

"Silas," Severus answered after giving a small hug back and realizing that his brother wasn’t about to leave his lap. "You are nearly twelve – too old to be sitting on my lap."

"I don’t care," Silas said. "I never got to do this when I was younger, and I never have to you yet."

"Silas," Severus warned, and Silas sat back slightly, nearly falling off the lap, a hurt look on his face.

"Fine," he answered slowly, getting off and making his way around the garden and into the house. It took Severus a moment to realize what had just happened.

"Silas," he called out, standing. No answer. Worried about what he had just done – basically refusing to comfort his brother – Severus practically ran into the house. "Silas?" he asked from the doorway. Still no response, nor any sign of the boy. Immediately, he started his way to Silas’ room, and was dumbfounded when he didn’t find him there. Next, he checked his own room. Still nothing. Nearly growling, he called out again.

"Silas? Where are you, child?" It was a small house, and it was very likely that no matter where Silas was, he heard him calling, so when there was still no answer, the irritation that he felt before raise a notch.

Not wanting to start a search of the house – and knowing Silas well enough – he walked back to Silas’ room and looked around a bit more carefully before remembering the wardrobe. It wouldn’t be the first time that Silas hid there. Some nonsense about small spaces being comforting, even though he was forced to live in a cupboard for almost ten years of his life.

Opening the wardrobe doors at the same time, he, predictably, found Silas sitting as far back as he could, his arms wrapped around his pulled up legs. Severus didn’t know whether or not the lack of tears – or expression, for that matter – was a good or bad sign.

"Silas?" Severus asked, kneeling. Silas didn’t look at him. "I am sorry."

"I just wanted a nice hug," Silas finally answered, a slight pout on his face.

"I gave you a hug," Severus pointed out. "When you gave me one."

"Yeah, but it was short. You never give me long hugs until I’m sick or something."

"I wasn’t aware you needed a ‘long hug’," he argued, feeling out of his league, especially since Silas never acted like this before. "You could have just asked."

"But you would have said no or just given me a small one. I know that if I asked if I could sit on you for a little bit, you would say no, so I didn’t ask," the little brother argued back. "You never like hugs."

"Silas," Severus half sighed, not knowing what else to say. "Although you are still small for your age, you are a bit big to be sitting in someone’s lap. If you want a hug, just hug me, but I really would prefer if you did not climb into my lap on some whim of yours."

"Not like I ever got to before," Silas said with a huff. "Dudley always got to, no matter that he was twice my size, but I never got to."

"Silas," Severus responded in the only way he could think of. He rubbed his forehead hard, a motion Silas recognized as annoyance. "What would you prefer me to do? Give you a shrinking potion or a deageing potion so you can be carried about like an infant? Is that really what you want? I realize you had a bad time at the Dursley’s – we went over that many, many times – but you shouldn’t let what they’ve done to you control you’re life. I’m here for you – I will always be here for you, until the day I die, but you are not an infant and I will not treat you like one. Understand?"

"Why are you being so mean?" Silas asked, keeping his knees up, but moving his arms to cross in front of his chest.

"I’m not being mean!" he growled back. "I am trying to explain to you! If you would listen. Why are you in such a horrible mood?"

"I am not," Silas answered back.

"Yes you are!"

"No, I’m not!"

"Silas!" he hissed. "Stop this!"

"You! You started it!" Silas shouted, standing up and pushing the hanging clothes out of the way roughly, a few of the empty hangers falling off.

Suddenly, Severus grabbed Silas by the stomach and pulled him out of the wardrobe, sitting him on the edge of his bed. Severus stood there for a moment, trying to gain control of the situation and of his emotions. After quick overview of the situation, as he often did when he was about to loose control, he nearly laughed.

They were fighting. Like brothers.

Silas appeared to have noticed the almost-smile that almost broke through Severus’ almost-sneer, because a confused look crossed his face, his anger almost forgotten. Suddenly inspired, Severus nearly lunged at his brother and started tickling him. Stunned and frozen for a few seconds, Silas tried to curl up tight and started giggling and Severus climbed up onto the bed to put himself in a better position to tickle and out of the way of the now-kicking feet of his eleven year old brother.

Some part of Severus’ brain told him to stop – that he shouldn’t be doing this. It was pointless, they were both too old to be playing around like this, and if anyone walked in on them at that moment – perhaps Draco bringing something to Harry that he forgot at the manner – he was sure he would never live it down. But honestly, he didn’t want to stop. It was nice, hearing Silas laugh that way and it felt . . . good to laugh as much himself.

Silas somehow twisted his body so his feet were pointed toward Severus and his upper body was hanging off the bed, his face becoming red from laughing and being upside down. Suddenly, the young wizard loosened himself from his brother’s grasp and tickles and managed to make it out of the room and to the stairs, Severus catching him about halfway down. Trapping him on the stairs, Severus continued to tickle, this time adding pokes on his little brother’s sides at unexpected moments.

Expected, perhaps, but not anticipated, Silas started to tickle back but was disappointed to find that his brother wasn’t ticklish in the same areas he was. The attack cause Severus to start tickling back even more, and Silas blushed as he let out a childish squeal in an extra-sensitive spot.

They both froze as a slow "dong-dong" from the front doorbell sounded throughout the house. That was odd in itself – it was rare that a neighbor called on the house as Silas tended to avoid the other children in the neighborhood, and Severus the adults – but it was also rather late for anyone to visit. Nearing nine now, Severus realized.

"Silas, ready yourself for bed. We are leaving early tomorrow."

"Okay," he answered without a fuss, a grin still large on his face. Trying to stop smiling, and having to give up, Severus answered the door.

Needless to say, he no longer had to try to stop smiling. For the lack of any other – perhaps better – response, Severus slammed the door and walked away. Unfortunately, in his re-found anger, he forgot to lock the door, and the unwanted visitor entered the house, only to be stopped by the arm of Albus Dumbledore.

"What is he doing here?" Severus spat at Dumbledore, not bothering to glance at Black.

"Mungo’s allowed a visit, with a chaperone."

"I want to see Harry," Black said flatly, but Severus shook his head.

"And why would I allow you to see Silas? After all, he is no longer your godson," sneered Severus. "He’s not even the child of your best friend."

Something dangerous flashed through Sirius’ eyes before he roughly tore his arm out of the headmaster’s grip.

"I know that," Sirius spat. "I’ve always known that he was not the biological child of James and Lily. Never knew whose child he was, but that never mattered, did it? Harry – Silas – whatever his name is, knowing I am innocent and that there was even the slightest chance I’d be able to see him again is probably the only reason I’m as sane as I am. Do you know how it feels, being in Azkaban, when I was supposed to be taking care of a child?"

"If he was raised by you, he would have had serious mental problems. Been just like you and Potter . . ."

Another flash through Sirius’ eyes. This one, though, confused Severus.

"No . . . well, perhaps a bit," Sirius said, quieting, and Severus understood. He was controlling his temper in order to see Silas. Severus inwardly smirked. As if he would allow that. "Actually . . . you’re probably right, I suppose. But . . . look, Snape, these sessions . . . they’ve been helping. I was ready to kidnap Harry – Silas, if he’d prefer to be called that – the moment I left Azkaban. I was mad with the idea, even. But . . . almost immediately Dumbledore came to me and explained the situation to both me and the annoying mediwizard and he talked me though it.

"I just want to see him. Meet him. I don’t have to be with him alone." Sirius paused. "I suppose he looks like you?"

"Almost exactly like Severus," Albus said, and Severus scowled at him, extremely angry at him for bringing the enemy into his home. "In Ravenclaw, almost put in Slytherin, I believe . . ."

Severus continued to glare at the headmaster, wondering what the old man was planning. Nothing good, he supposed.

"Of course," Black grumbled before shrugging. "I suppose . . . shouldn’t have expected much else . . . you’d have to be better than those muggle relatives of Lily’s, I’d suppose, raising a kid. But . . . horrid, they were. Lily said you weren’t entirely dark . . . I wasn’t about to believe her, myself, really, but Dumbledore said . . ." the man rambled on for a bit and Severus took another sneering stance.

"Pitiful," he said quietly, but loud enough for Sirius to hear and stop talking, a glare forming in his eyes. "Can’t gather your thoughts for even one complete sentence. I see some things haven’t changed." Glancing at Albus, Severus inwardly sighed. He knew he wasn’t about to rid himself of the Black filth until he complied with the request, so he took a step back. "You have five minutes with Silas, and I will be with you the entire time. If I feel you are any threat . . ." Severus let his threat linger between them, and Severus had to will himself not to pull his wand on the smiling headmaster.

After all, he would prefer to keep his job.

Sirius Black, after hearing this, nearly fell to his knees, but managed to stay standing.

"Thank you," he replied quietly. "Thank you. Thank you."

"He is dressing for the night. I will see if he is ready. Headmaster?" Severus asked.

"I will stay down here, if that is alright with you. I have much need of a bathroom . . ."

Quite merrily, Albus left the room, leaving the two dark-haired adults in the room alone, both glaring at each other underneath their blank stares, and neither saying a word.

"Stay here," Severus nearly snapped. "I will see if he wishes to see you and will bring him down if he does . . . do not touch anything!" He left for Silas’ room immediately upon seeing Black nod, although he took his time walking up the stairs. Silas, predictably, was standing in his doorway, looking torn.

"Who’s here?" the boy asked quietly, nervous-like, in fact.

"Albus Dumbledore – and, unfortunately, Sirius Black. If . . ." Severus stopped, not wanting to say it. "If you wish, you may speak with him for five minutes. Keep in mind," he sneered, "that he’s a bit mad . . . can’t talk correctly, for one. You might have some trouble understanding him."

Severus took note of the surprise and excited gleam that entered his brother’s eyes. Still, he appeared nervous.

"I can?" he asked slowly. "You won’t be mad? Are you sure?"

"Go, if you are completely ready for bed," Severus said quickly, and Silas headed for the stairs before his brother could change his mind. He stopped before descending, though, noticing that Severus hadn’t moved.

"You are coming, aren’t you? I . . . don’t want to meet him alone."

"I wouldn’t leave him alone with you," Severus drawled. "I told you he’s mad . . . he might decide to run with you."

Silas gave him a innocuous look, and Severus gave a relieved sigh, understanding him even before the child spoke up.

"I don’t want to live with him. I would never go with him! But . . . the Potters chose him for my godfather for a reason, right?" Silas also sounded relieved, and Severus realized it was because he was meeting someone from his adopted parents’ life, bringing them back, again, the their mother’s abandonment of Silas. A topic Severus did not want to breach, as it would only make both of them irritated.

Suddenly, Silas’ demeanor changed as he bounded down the stairs, nearly slipping because he was in socks.

"Careful!" Severus hissed, and Silas sent him up a smile as Severus stalked down the stairs. In another sudden burst of childishness, Silas grabbed Severus by the hand and pulled him, an action that obviously surprised the once-thought felon when they came into view. Silas stopped short, not letting go of his brother’s hand.

"Silas?" Sirius asked, and the small boy nodded, and the stranger gave a small huff. "Well, you really do look like Snape, don’t you?"

Severus noted that his brother didn’t respond to that.

"I’m Sirius Black," the man said, holding out his hand, appearing – very obviously – to be doing his best to control his emotions. Before Silas could accept the handshake, Sirius straightened his posture. "Marauder, prankster and . . ." he faltered . . . "willing adult at your service, anytime you need. Granted, of course, your brother allows that," he said, the last sentence quiet and more to himself than to Silas. Still, some odd feeling stirred in Severus. Something he wasn’t about to look into, for his own sanity’s sake. Still, he subdued his reaction to a mere glare for Silas’ sake.

"Silas Prince," Silas said, putting his own small hand into Sirius’, and they shook, but not without an odd look at Severus at the mention of his name.

"Prince?"

"Our mother’s maiden name," Severus answered harshly, warning him not to comment further. For the first time Severus could ever remember, the taller man heeded his warning.

"So, Silas," Black said, slightly more confident. "I heard you’re in Ravenclaw. Like to read?"

"Yes," Silas answered, his eyes brightening.

"I have some books you might enjoy, then," he answered with a small bow. "Not that I’ve seen them in quite a long time, of course, but I’m sure you’d enjoy them . . . may be a bit advanced for you, though," he teased. "Not sure a Ravenclaw could get their big head around them, all those parchment spells and the like." Silas gave a small giggle at the joke, still obviously nervous.

Obviously forgotten, Dumbledore entered the front room, looking ready to leave.

"Well, I suppose I must be going then, Silas," Sirius said, dutifully ignoring the other two adults in the room. His voice was sad, and Severus could tell the confidence from before was leaving. He made note of the sudden mood changes. "I’d like to talk to you again . . . perhaps write some letters?"

Silas nodded after a glance at his brother.

"Good, good," Dumbledore interrupted. "Well, I must say this has been a good visit," he continued. "But we really must be going. Good bye, Severus, Silas, and have a good visit to Sibiu!"

Another strange look from Sirius, and both guests left, much to Severus’ relief. Silas, more relaxed, looked up at his brother.

"Well, off to bed, then," Severus responded. "Good night."

"‘Night," Silas answered, a smile on his face as he went upstairs.

The train ride to Sibiu was amicable, but nonetheless boring. Silas had woken up early and in a very good mood thanks to two happy events yesterday (playing with Severus and meeting Sirius!) and he had woken Severus up when he felt he could not wait any longer. After dressing, eating, and making sure everything they would need for two weeks was packed, they flooed to Kings Cross to catch a train at station Platform 1/4 – an inconveniently placed platform that one would normally assume would be right before Platform 1 but was, in fact, neatly hidden in a darkened corner near the bathrooms.

It made sense, Silas reasoned, to have the main wizarding platform hidden from the main area of traffic, but he didn’t quite understand why they would have the Hogwarts Express platform right in the middle of two much-used muggle platforms. He was beginning to think that wizards didn’t often think logically about some matters.

Silas was expecting to have to run through the wall to get onto the platform, as he did for platform 9 and 3/4, but to his surprise, once they arrived in that dark corner, Severus pulled out his wand and tapped two bricks near the bottom of the wall. Silently, and not at all fancy like the Diagon Alley entrance, the fake wall suddenly disappeared and Severus pulled him through quickly as several witches and wizards poured out the opposite way. As soon as the group was through, the illusion seemed to put itself back up, but unlike the muggle side, there was a clear cut, arched stone doorway clearly marking the exit.

Amazed, Silas watched as a wizard walked up to the exit, tapped a crystal ball-type object setting on a post next to the archway and walked through the now-clear path.

"Come along, Silas," Severus said, pulling slightly at his sleeve. They walked along the long platform, Silas expecting to enter the train which was waiting on their right, but instead, they went inside a small building and sat down on the seats inside.

"When does the train get here?" Silas asked, looking around the room for a clock. He found a large one near the door they entered, but instead numbers and the usual amount of hands, there were phrases that said "At Station", "Traveling", "Stopped" . . . and other situations like "Off Track" or "In Trouble". There were twelve hands, label with odd symbols, that Silas assumed were for each of the trains. He had asked Severus before about the station, and Severus had said there were twelve magical trains, including the Hogwarts Express, that traveled only in the wizarding world.

As much as the clock kept Silas interested for a minutes, it did not help him at all as he had no idea what train they were taking, so Silas looked at his brother. Severus was looking at some wizard in the corner of the room and did not hear him, so he tapped his brother on the arm.

"Severus," Silas said, but he still didn’t get a response. "Severus!"

"What?" the professor asked, turning to face the little annoyance.

"What time does the train get here?" he asked, impatient as Severus was annoyed.

"Fifteen minutes," he snapped. "Sit down and behave. I will be back here in a few minutes."

Wondering what that man did to be able to upset Severus just by being in the same room, Silas sat down on the most comfortable-looking waiting chair and watched as his brother stalked across the room and greeted the man. The man was a few inches taller than Severus, and had sandy colored hair and blue eyes. He looked nervous as well as pleased to see the potions master, and they both appeared to talk jubilantly for a few minutes before shaking hands and parting; the strange man toward the door and Severus toward Silas.

"Who was that?" Silas asked as his brother sat down.

"Someone I knew when I was in Hogwarts," Severus answered sharply, and Silas knew from the tone that he was not to press the subject.

Fifteen minutes later, Silas jumped as a ‘dong’ ran through the platform and a cheerful voice announced that "Train Number Seven has now arrive!" Severus stood up, and Silas just now realized they didn’t have their trunks.

"Severus, our things!" he exclaimed, and he realized that they didn’t have them since they arrive on the platform.

"They are on the train," Severus answered.

"Already?"

"Yes, already," he said with a sigh. On the train, now," Severus said, pushing Silas forward a bit, and he made his way to the train after a brief look back at his brother, excited.

Silas’ excitement quickly wore off, though, half an hour into the train ride. He asked Severus how much longer it would be, and Severus’ answer was simply, "About seven hours."

"Seven hours?" Silas asked. "That long? Isn’t there a faster way to get there . . . like floo or something?"

"It is proper to take the train, Silas. And it might be shorter, depending on certain factors. Watch out the window, if you wish . . . if I am correct, we shall be traveling under water soon."

"Under water?" Silas asked. Severus nodded.

"How else would you expect us to take a train to Sibiu?" Severus asked, and his brother merely shrugged and took Severus’ suggestion of looking out the window. He was, before, but he really wasn’t paying much attention to the scenery. Now, though, he realized they were going quite fast – much faster, in fact, than the Hogwarts Express – although it felt as if they weren’t moving at all. It wasn’t long before the tracks led them to the water’s edge and then into the water. Instinctively, Silas held his breath before he realized there was no need to do so.

Embarrassed, he looked at Severus and saw that the man was smiling slightly – he noticed!! – and Silas blushed. Looking out the window, Silas decided that being underwater was amazing.

Six hours later – the trip took shorter than Severus estimated, thankfully – the magic-modified steam engine pulled into the station, Silas half asleep in his chair. A small nudge woke him, though, and he groggily followed his brother onto the platform.

Suddenly, their trunks popped up next to them, startling Silas, which caused Severus to smirk. Levitating the trunks with one hand and making sure that Silas had his carry-on, Severus used one hand to gently push him forward and out of the way of the crowd.

Not that there was much of a crowd, though. The platform was small, and Silas just realized there were only two cars on the train. It felt maybe twenty people were on the train, and as Silas watched, only four got on to leave Sibiu. For some reason, he just felt like there would be . . . more wizards.

"Severus, Silas!" Trimdol said as he – for the lack of a better word – bounced over to his two visitors. "Welcome to Sibiu!"

"Thank you," Severus most grunted, and Trimdol gave him a small smile.

"I have my carriage waiting," Trimdol said, giving Silas a pat on the head (to which he received an annoyed glare), and the two halfbloods followed the defense professor off the platform and to a carriage-waiting area. They stopped in front of two white horses, which Silas found he could not stop staring at. They weren’t as brilliant as the Thestrals, but they were rather beautiful.

"I thought an open carriage would be best for the occasion, so I could show you around as he traveled to my home," Trimdol said. "I hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty of inviting a family over for dinner. Maurice and Kendra Prince and their son . . . would they be any relation to you? They are rather good friends of mind. I grew up with Kendra; her parents took care and taught me for half of my childhood."

"Maybe third or fourth cousin," Severus answered flatly.

"How old’s their son?" Silas asked, curious. "And why did they take care of you? Where are your parents?"

"Silas," Severus bent down to whisper in his younger brother’s ear. "It’s rude to ask personal questions of your host."

"Their son is fifteen," Trimdol answered, not taking any offense to the personal question. In fact, he seemed rather excited to answer. "And my parents died when I was young. My mother when I was about one year old, and my father . . . was killed when I was eleven."

"Do you miss them?" Silas asked quietly, and Trimdol gave him a sad smile and answered after a small pause.

"Of course I do." He became animated again as helped Silas into the carriage ushered Severus up before taking a seat at the head.

Silas had to admit – only to himself – that the short tour from the train station to Trimdol’s home was boring. The buildings were different than he was used to – all of them connected on a street in an inconsistent manner that was somewhat puzzling to Silas – but they all looked the same. Same color, same style . . . the only difference between them was the size or door and window style.

He was happy when Trimdol lead the horses into a drive way and under the house to the backyard where a small stable was. Getting out of the carriage, Silas looked at his professor’s house and examined it. It was three floors high, the third floor the largest because it connected with the house on the left (or, on the right from the front of the house), while the first and second floors left a hole between the two homes to allow for them take a carriage back to the stables easily.

Still architecture wasn’t something that Silas was extremely interested in, so he was glad when Trimdol announced that they were going inside. There was enough time for both brothers to clean up for dinner, so Trimdol led them to their rooms first so they could do so. The defense professor quickly showed Severus to a room on the second floor before leading Harry to a room on the third floor.

"This is my favorite guest room in the house," Trimdol said. "It was my room for years . . . I had it made up especially for you."

"Wow," Silas said, looking around. It wasn’t extremely big, but one of the walls was slanted and met with a low ceiling near the window. The ceiling, too, slanted up. It was more of an attic room, Silas realized.

"The window shows the street," Trimdol said, bringing Silas from his thoughts. "If you are up early enough, you can watch everyone on their way to work. Around seven is the busiest. I believe you can also see the bakery from here, across the street and a few numbers down . . ."

"Thank you!" Silas said, and Trimdol gave a small bow with his head before showing him where the bathroom was (on the second floor) and leaving him to his own devices.

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Silas sat uncomfortably at the dining room table. It was set up a bit more informal than the Leaving Dinner at the Malfoy’s, but it still felt rather fancy. Normally, such a setting wouldn’t bother him, but today, with Trimdol and three people he didn’t know at the table, he felt as if he was doing everything wrong. The boy, who had brown eyes and dark eyes that he swore were tinted purple when he spoke, kept staring at him. Thankfully, the adults did most of the talking, and Silas was more than happy to let them ignore him.

"It has been, of course, tradition for all the Prince lines to attend Hogwarts, yes," Maurice Prince said, answering Trimdol’s question of why Bernard, their son, wasn’t attending Hogwarts, "but Kendra," he continued, indicating his wife, "suggested we teach Bernard ourselves. Her family has always taught at home, only bringing in tutors when necessary. With the state of the schools now days, you can’t be too careful what a child will learn."

"Yes, yes, of course," Kendra said. "Hogwarts and their Muggle Studies," she hissed. "And bringing mudbloods into the school."

"They do have potential, magically," Trimdol said with a half-shrug. "Wouldn’t you say so, Severus?"

"Matthias, you are too kind," Kendra interrupted before Severus could answer. "You always have been. You father would disapprove, I’m sure."

"I’m sure he would," Trimdol said with a nod. "But they are of some use."

"A majority of the students have no talent," Severus answered. "Blood isn’t an indication there. Most of them are lazy and lacking drive, preferring games to study."

"Another issue brought in by mudbloods," Maurice agreed. "I have heard muggles are extremely lax with their children. It really is more of an issue of how the wizard is raised, more than blood, although blood is a large portion of it . . ."

"My father had aways said there are certain ways of integrating muggleborns. It’s a long, complicated process, but it preserves both the bloodlines and traditions. It was almost passed at the Ministry about ten years ago, but then certain issues arose," Trimdol responded, giving a pointed look at Severus.

"Really? I did not know it was that close," Severus said.

"Oh, it was," Trimdol said. "You know of it in detail, then?"

"Yes, of course. I heard the Dark Lord was pushing for the matter. He thought it a wonderful idea."

"Yes, I suppose he would, wouldn’t he?" Trimdol mumbled, his eyebrows scrunching together for a split second before his face turned happy again.

"Of course he would," Kendra said. "But there was never much said about testing them, was there?"

The adults in the room shook their heads in an indication that they didn’t know, and Silas shot a look at Bernard, who was eating and nodding a bit; it was obvious he agreed with his parents and the other adults. One glance and Severus did nothing to help Silas understand what exactly was going on. He knew that muggleborns weren’t liked much by purebloods – he heard some about it from Draco, actually – but he never thought it a big deal, or that the Ministry agreed.

And, he realized he didn’t really know Severus’ exact thoughts on the matter. He made a mental note to himself to ask Severus later.

After dinner, Silas and Bernard were more or less pushed up the stairs to ‘play’ while the adults adjourned to a room to talk. Silas, glad to be free of the talk for now, went to ‘his’ room. This trip didn’t seem to be as he expected it, so far. Nothing fun happened yet, that’s for sure.

He wasn’t even sure where William was! He was supposed to be there, that was for sure, but there had been no sign nor talk of him since they arrived.

Sitting on the bed, Silas realized that Bernard had followed him into the room. He watched the older boy from the corner of his eye as he sat down.

"What’s it like at Hogwarts?" Bernard asked.

"It’s . . ." Silas started, but he stopped immediately. This boy was home schooled, so Silas didn’t want to make it seem like it was so great. "It’s school," he shrugged. "Lots of classes and work, but I love the castle. It’s so big!"

"Do you know many mudbloods?"

"I . . . er . . ." Silas started at the word ‘mudblood’. He didn’t like it, not really, even if Draco says it’s a more accurate description of what muggleborns are. Silas, though, didn’t know if he believed that. Blood hadn’t done that well for him so far, except for Severus. The entire blood-issues . . . Silas really didn’t understand or care about them. "I don’t know, really. I never ask. I know a few halfbloods, though."

"Half bloods aren’t that bad," Bernard shrugged. "A friend of mine’s cousin is half blood and she visits sometimes. She’s smart and really nice. So most of Hogwarts is pureblood?"

"I don’t know . . ." Silas said again. "My best friend is pureblood, I know. He would probably know who is muggle born and not. He normally keeps track of those sorts of things."

"Who?" Bernard asked.

"What?"

"Who is your friend? Would I know their family?"

"Draco Malfoy. I don’t know if you would know them. They don’t come here very often. I don’t even know where their house is."

"The Malfoys? I heard a lot about them, most of it good, too. They’re very bit on pure-blood supremacy, aren’t they?"

"Yes, they are. They don’t mind half bloods, though; not much."

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"How do you like Sibiu, Severus?" Maurice asked once the four adults settled. "As you expected? You haven’t been here before, have you?"

"I have," Severus answered. "I have a few friends who own land here and have visited several times during the war. Time were hard, then, having to keep away from the aurors."

"That must have been horrible. I would have bet a hundred galleons that most of those aurors were on the side of purebloods but were afraid to lose their job," Kendra said. "If only everyone who believed in Pure Blood Supremacy stood up for what was right, it would have been over. Now, Sibiu’s ministry got it right."

"They did," Trimdol agreed. "When did you acquire a position at Hogwarts, Severus?"

"In 1981," Severus answered. "A few months before the war ended."

"You must have gained the trust of the Ministry sometime, then," Kendra said.

"Dumbledore’s trust, actually," Severus nodded. "It was a good position. I could keep an eye on the headmaster, get paid for teaching insufferable brats, and pass information on to the Dark Lord."

"I wish we knew what happened, exactly. Honestly, a baby defeating the Dark Lord! A child who isn’t even going to Hogwarts! What a load of dragon dung!" Kendra said. "Still, I’d teach that child a lesson, anyway. Probably in some hidden country, getting praised for such a horrible act."

"Now, now," Trimdol interrupted. "No need to be so harsh. What would a child remember, anyway? He was how old? A year? Two at most. Children don’t have good memories at that age. Most likely, something happened with the wards, and it had nothing to do with the Potter boy, and even if it did, he can’t be held responsible. If he was raised by proper people, perhaps he’s done well and realizes what he should stand for."

For the first time ever, and probably the last, Severus gave Trimdol a look of appreciation.

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"So . . . I mean, I know muggleborns aren’t good, but do you know why?" Silas asked after a bit of silence between him and Bernard.

"You don’t know? Have you ever met any muggles?"

"Well, yes," Silas answered.

"You have?" Bernard sounded flabbergasted. "Where?"

"I grew up with muggles," Silas said with a small, uncomfortable shrug. "Until Severus came a got me."

"You’re muggleborn?" Bernard asked, contempt in his voice.

"No! I was adopted you see, by a halfblood family. My parents died, then and I was sent to live with muggle relatives. Then my real brother found out he was my brother and came and got me and I’ve been living with him since," Silas answered quickly.

"Oh." Bernard looked confused. Silas realized he never met anyone who knew a real muggle before. He only knew what he heard. "Well, they must have been horrible, right?"

"Yes," Silas said. "They were. They hated me. Hated magic, I suppose, but they never even told me I was a wizard! I was so happy when Severus took me away."

"See, that’s why muggleborns are bad," the fourteen year old said, catching hold of a point that finally helped him. "It’s not just the dirty, impure blood, but how they act. Muggles don’t care for their children like wizards do, nor do they raise them with respect. Then they find out they have magic and they come live in the wizarding world, bringing their horrible behavior with them."

Silas didn’t want to point out that not every muggle was bad, but even if he did – for some reason – he couldn’t think of a time where muggle adults were ever nice to him. Maybe a teacher, back when he was very young and the Dursleys weren’t spreading lies about him, but . . .

Now that he thought about it, Bernard did have a point. Look at Dudley, after all. Extremely spoiled. And if that was considered normal by Petunia and Vernon, it must have been the common thing to do, even if most kids weren’t fat like Dudley – it must have been what everyone did. For once, Silas was glad that he wasn’t given everything.

Then again, it felt wrong. After all, you couldn’t tell a muggleborn from a pureblood wizard child just by how they acted. Mostly, everyone acted the same. Maybe it was different as they got older.

Silas now wished that Bernard would just go away so he could find Severus and ask him about this stuff.

Still, Silas and Bernard continued talking, Bernard mostly asking questions about Hogwarts: what they learned, what his favorite part of the castle was, quidditch . . .

About an hour later, the pure blood visitors finally left, and Silas was downstairs, standing extremely close to Severus and kind of holding his hand; an obvious hint that Silas wanted to talk to his brother.

"Now, Silas, Severus, I really should be picking up William. He’ll be excited to see you, Silas. He hasn’t been able to talk about any else but your visit for the past two days. Would you two like to come?"

"Yes!" Silas answered, his eyes lighting up. Severus was about to answer yes, too, not wanting to leave his younger brother with Trimdol in a strange village, but he felt slightly better about Trimdol since he diverted the talk from Harry Potter earlier. And, Silas had been alone with him dozens of times before . . . really, there was nothing to worry about. Except, really, that he didn’t know the extent of Trimdol’s views against muggleborns. He would have to make sure to talk to Silas later to explain a few things. Not to mention Silas seemed to want to talk about something, and with as much as the boy talked, he might have mentioned a few things to the Bernard child that the Prince might have strongly disputed.

Yes, a talk would be necessary later.

"I would rather rest for a bit, if you don’t mind," Severus said. "I’m sure I’ll see enough of the village and it’s inhabitants during the next week."

"Yes, of course you will," Trimdol answered. "Well, come along, Silas. We’ll be walking – it’s only two streets over."

"Bye Severus!" Silas said and followed he followed Trimdol eagerly out of the house. Severus would have thought that the child forgot about his need to talk, but one glance back at him, their eyes connected, and Severus knew that, although it could wait, Silas had questions. Severus gave a short nod.

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"Severus?" Silas asked as soon as his brother had opened the bedroom door. It was eleven o’clock at night, and Silas should have been in been already.

"What are you doing up?" Severus asked, but let his young brother in the room anyway. As soon as Silas, Trimdol, and William arrived back at the house that evening, Silas spent the rest of the evening playing with the four year old until it was time for bed, so he didn’t have time to discuss the blood concerns.

"I couldn’t sleep," Silas replied, although he looked half asleep as he sat down on the bed.

"What’s the matter?"

"Well, you know all the talking about blood?" Silas asked. "About how muggleborns are bad?"

"Yes?"

"Well, are they?"

Severus didn’t answer for a moment.

"Silas, no, they aren’t. But you have to realize something – most of the wizards I associate with dislike muggles, so I must not appear to having any good regards of them. Understand?"

"I think so," Silas answered. "But why?"

"You’ll learn someday, I’m sure," Severus answered. "It’s complicated . . ."

"Can I stay here for the night?" Silas asked, changing the subject and, thankfully for Severus, accepting the poor explanation.

"I suppose," Severus sighed. "The bed is big enough. You will sleep in your own bed for the rest of the week, understand?"

"Okay," was Silas’s answer as he tucked himself under the covers and rolling over to his side, appearing instantly comfortable.

"And Silas?"

"Yeah?" he asked groggily.

"I do not want to hear the word ‘mudblood’ from your mouth . . . ever, neither as an insult nor a description."

"Okay," Silas answered, and Severus wasn’t entire sure that the boy actually understood what he said. A few minutes later, Silas’ breathing was even and Severus went back to reading.

"Silas?" a small voice asked a minute after they finished reading the book together.

"William?" Silas asked back.

"When do you leave?" Silas looked at the time.

"Two hours," he answered sadly. It was amazing how well he spoke now, when a year ago all he spoke was parseltongue. Severus explained to him how it was possible – because really, it seemed quite quick – but it was something about magic and the brain, and really – although it sounded interesting – at the time he really didn’t care.

"Do you have to?" William whined.

"Well, Severus is leaving, and I have to go with him."

"Oh."

"But we’ll see each other again in little over a month," Silas reminded him. "That’s not that long from now."

Silas sat up from his position of laying on William’s bed on his stomach and pulled the small four year old – almost five; that was hard to believe – into his lap. William wrapped his arms around Silas, and Silas very willingly returned the hug.

–__–_-__–_-_--_--_-_--_----_-_-_-_-_-__-__-___—__—_____--

"Severus," Dumbledore greeted, and the potions professor nodded his greeting in return, before looking into the empty Great Hall.

"Yet another year with the nuisances of children," Severus grumbled at the prospect of the students returning in a week. He had left Silas with the Malfoys, and none of the other professors were scheduled to return until the next day. Dumbledore had called him early for a ‘discussion’.

"It’s not that horrible," the headmaster returned with a small smile. They continued walking, slowly making their way up to the headmaster’s office through a portrait-less path. "How was your visit with Trimdol this summer?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Severus admitted. "The usual talk of Sibiu purebloods. Trimdol doesn’t appear to be entirely opposed to muggleborns at Hogwarts."

"That is good," Dumbledore said softly, and Severus gave a barely noticeable grunt. "You still don’t like him."

"Of course not!"

"This doesn’t have anything to do with Silas’ relationship with the Trimdol’s, does it?"

"Trimdol was raised in a pureblood atmosphere. It will be hard enough to prevent Silas, who was raised with horrible muggles, from falling into their beliefs."

"But you said–."

"Not entirely," Severus interrupted, getting irritated. "He believes muggleborns have their uses. His father was a supporter of the Integration Policy. It sounded as if he was loyal to his father."

"You sound hesitant," Dumbledore stated bluntly. Severus sighed. He was never sure whether he liked the straightforward Dumbledore or the facade-driven ‘grandfather’ Dumbledore best when it came to these conversations. Both were exceedingly annoying.

"He’s . . . not trustworthy," Severus stated. "Just from observation, his moods can easily change. But he . . . seems honest. He’s willing to stand up to his adopted family on the matter of muggleborns, in any case."

"Keep an eye on him?" Dumbledore asked, and Severus nodded. "How was young Silas’ birthday?"

"Similar to last year’s," Severus said shaking his head. "At the Malfoy Manor, although Silas choose those who came this year. It was much smaller."

"And how is Lucius?"

"No different from when you last spoke to him," Severus answered flatly. He loathed whenever Dumbledore brought the Malfoy family into the conversation. It was hard not to read into the man’s questions more than was probably necessary – habits are hard to stop.

"Good, good. Well, I’m sure you have lessons to plan. Will you be in the Great Hall for dinner?"

"If you insist," Severus sighed.

"I do, my boy, I do. Can’t have you working through dinner, can I?"

"Wait," Severus said as Dumbledore began toward the stairs. "I’ll come with you. I have a bit of free time and feel in the mood for tea," Severus answered and Dumbledore gave him a knowing look.

"Tea sounds wonderful. It’s been a while since I’ve had tea with anyone capable of decent conversation."

Five minutes later, both were sitting at Dumbledore’s desk, chairs transfigured for comfort, and were sipping their tea contemplatively.

"I came across an old . . . friend at Platform 1/4. Thoroughly disguised, but I was able to recognize him. It wasn’t an extremely different disguise from when we were students." Severus paused. "It was Mulciber." There was an uncomfortable silence between them.

"Are you sure?

"Yes. I confronted him. He seemed surprised I recognized him."

"Odd. Very odd," Dumbledore mumbled. "There hadn’t been . . ." the old man trailed off.

"No news at all? Nothing that has been kept quiet?"

"No," Dumbledore said. "None at all."

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Silas was nervous, that was for sure. The start of the year went well, so far. It really had. Nothing outrageous had happened, nothing embarrassing . . . nothing dangerous. James Potter’s ‘ghost’ was still wandering around and had taken to following Silas when Severus wasn’t around, but that wasn’t anything scary. It was actually slightly encouraging for him to be there, especially during class. It was nice; the encouraging smiles and the ‘good job’s yelled from across the room. He was just glad no one could hear James but him.

The difference this year, though, was that Draco and Stephan were forcing him to try out for the Ravenclaw quidditch team. He liked quidditch, yes. In fact, he loved being on a broom, but . . . he doubted he would get on the team. He was only in second year! There hadn’t been a second year on a quidditch team for five years, according to Severus, so he really didn’t have much faith that he would be getting a position. He talked to Severus about it briefly, but he only got a noncommital answer.

That didn’t make him feel too good. Severus was usually straightforward with him. Draco and Stephan just told him to relax and shut up, because he was going to try out no matter what. So, as he stood there with an old school broom in hand, waiting for his name to be called for the first round, Silas felt sick, even though he hadn’t eaten anything that morning.

Finally, his and three other names were called, and Silas hesitantly walked to the center of the pitch where the team captain was and stood. He felt so out of place with all those eyes on him as he got onto his broom and listened to the rules.

It was to be a two-on-two. First team would pass the quaffle between each other, flying from one end of the pitch to the other, trying to not get the ball intercepted by the second team. Then teams would switch.

Silas watched, not really paying much attention, as the ball was given to the other player on his team and together, they flew to the goals on one side. Looking down at the stands, it felt as if there were so many eyes on him, all of them giving weird looks. He looked around for Stephan, but couldn’t find him immediately. Instead, he spotted Severus talking to Professor Flitwick and the brothers made eye contact as Severus looked up.

Severus gave him a nod, and suddenly he felt a lot better. Severus had come to watch him! If his brother really did not wish him to try out for the team, he wouldn’t have come to see, right? Giving one more glance around for Stephan, spotting him in the top of the stands, Silas moved his attention to his teammate.

The boy was probably three years older than him – making most of his nerves hit him at full blast once again – and was giving him an irritated look.

"Don’t mess up, Prince," the boy said roughly. "I’m not going to miss out on my place on this team because of Snape’s little brother."

Silas glared at the boy, irritated at being threatened and wanting to prove himself. He readied himself on his room and a whistle was blown. They were off.

It went smoothly for the first few seconds. The older boy tossed him the quaffle perfectly, and he had no problem catching it. He threw it back immediately, not used to the weight while flying; he was used to playing seeker, and when it was just him and Draco, they’d toss around smaller balls or play around with the bludgers instead of the quaffle.

The quaffle made it’s mark, causing Silas to give a smile. He wasn’t expecting the boy to hit it back like he was hitting a bludger instead of catching it then tossing it, and Silas saw a girl from the opposite team racing toward the ill-aimed ball. Urging his broom faster, Silas aimed down, instinctively aiming toward where he might catch it. Just barely, he reached the quaffle before the girl, and he flew upwards quickly and made it half way across the pitch before tossing it back toward his team member.

Catching the boy’s eyes, he saw the anger and he slowed down, watching as he caught the quaffle and few ahead toward the end of the pitch, weaving around the two opposing members. Silas had to rush to keep up, but they both made it to the goals at the same time.

The second round went a bit smoother. He was able to stay away from his teammate and he came close to intercepting the quaffle twice. He didn’t attempt to try out for keeper, but he did make nine out of the ten goals for bludger-aiming. There was only one Ravenclaw who made all ten goals.

By the time it came for seeker tryouts, Silas was extremely excited and much more at ease. The tryout was typical: try to catch as many of the five snitches that were around half the quidditch pitch in five minutes.

Silas caught all five in two minutes. It wasn’t that hard, and Silas had a feeling they were snitches for children; not the type of snitch he and Draco had been using since they began playing together. They were very slow and they felt strange in his hand.

"All right, then!" the captain yelled toward the entire pitch – Silas hadn’t caught his name; he’d have to check on that later – "The team will be posted tomorrow in the common room! Thank you!"

Stephan ran to catch up with him as he started walking toward the castle. "I have to go!" his friend whispered in a hush. "I’ll explain later!"

Silas nodded as he watched his friend run off toward the castle and was startled when Severus put his hand on his shoulder.

"Good job," Severus said smoothly. "You might even make the team."

"You think so?" Silas asked.

"It’s possible. You were the youngest trying out; that might be held against you, Professor Flitwick was impressed with your flying."

Silas looked back at the quidditch pitch, where the Ravenclaw captain and Head of House were talking. From where they were, it was impossible to see their faces, and Silas turned to look back at his brother.

"Are you going to be at Game Night tonight?" Silas asked. "It’s the first one of the term!"

"If I have to be," Severus said roughly. "I was not told yet that my presence is required."

"Oh," Silas answered, a little disappointed. "May I come down to your rooms afterwards?"

"I don’t see why you could not. See if I am in the potions classroom first. I have preparations to do. And do not come and find me after curfew."

"Okay!" Silas said. "I should go. Game Night is going to start soon, and I think Stephan is planning something." That said, Silas ran the rest of the way to the castle.

=+=+=+=+=+===+==+=+=+=+=+

Severus shook his head as Silas ran off excitedly, pleased at the prospect of his younger brother visiting later. He was quite certain the Silas had earned a position on the Ravenclaw quidditch team, but did not say so because he didn’t want to get Silas’ hope up. It was rare that a second year would find a place on any house team, but even rarer for the Ravenclaw team. Still, the chances were decently high, especially since Silas knew a few of the older years from Ancient Runes. And, apparently, they know him as a decent chess player.

Maybe it would help him become more social. Not that it’s a bad thing he’s not, Severus thought, then shook the idea from his head. Silas was one who craved good attention. The boy loved being around people he knew well, but he had trouble making friends on his own. In fact, Severus wasn’t expecting his brother to try out for the team at all; he was curious as to how Draco and Stephan convinced him to do so.

Of course, Silas being on the quidditch team would cause a few more conflicts; one of them being at the Ravenclaw-Slytherin game.

The boy will understand, Severus thought with a nod.

Later that evening, despite Severus’ proclamation to Silas that he wasn’t going unless forced, he found himself entering crowded Great Hall. Same as last year, the mood was full of energy, children running around on one side of the hall while others playing less active – yet no more quieter – games on the other.

"Severus!" Trimdol said, sneaking up on Severus as he was looking around for his brother. He wasn’t planning on staying . . . for some reason, he just wanted to see how Silas was doing. "You’re in time! Some of the students are putting on a small skit. They’re just setting up now." Trimdol indicated the raised area where the Head Table usually was. Normally, this area was also set up for games, but this time, it was most definitely a stage. A red curtain was hanging from a spot halfway up to the ceiling and Severus could see bits of a set when a student would walk through the curtain. "None of the professors but the headmaster know what it is all about, but I was just coming to find you . . . Albus said he wanted all staff to see this."

"And what would be so important to pull all professors from their work?" Severus asked, not amused.

"You did come, Severus," Trimdol pointed out, looking slightly confused.

"Not for the games," he answered flatly, which caused Trimdol to widen his smile.

"Checking up on your little brother, huh?" he asked, a teasing tone in his voice.

"I came to see if any assistance was required for me. I can see that it is not." Severus turned to leave, but was stopped by Silas’ voice.

"Severus! I didn’t know you were going to come!" Severus turned around to find his brother several meters away, holding the little Trimdol boy’s hand and walking closer. "There’s going to be a play! Stephan’s in it! You can’t leave now!"

Severus sighed. "I have things which I need to get done," Severus answered.

"Like what? It’s Friday! You’re going to be up until midnight like every other night, anyway!"

"Silas," Severus warned.

"Please?" the twelve year old asked, nearly begging. William added a small, "Yeah, please?" too.

"Hello, Sybil," Trimdol greeted, diverting the attention of the brothers’ and William to the divination professor, who just walked in past Severus.

"Hello," she answered. "I had a feeling I would be needed here tonight, so I stopped by. I haven’t been to one of these Game Nights yet . . . too much conflicting energy to be comfortable."

"Right, you are! In fact, I was just about to go find all the straggling professors. I think all I need to find now is Hagrid and Binns – although I don’t know if the ghost will be too keen on coming."

"He will," Sybil said. "If you find him." At that, Trimdol left and Trelawny went to mingle among the students and professors.

"Please stay?" Silas asked again. "Every teacher’s going to be here! You can’t be the only one not here!"

Severus glared at his brother with irritation, but silently consented with a small, single nod.

"Wicked!" he answered. "You can sit next to me and William!"

Fifteen minutes later, the space in front of the stage was set up similar to that of a theater. The seats got higher each row, so everyone could see properly, and Trimdol, Silas, William and Severus were in the fifth row, Trimdol on one side of Silas, Severus on the other and William on the small boy’s lap. Trimdol tried to convince Silas otherwise, thinking that William was getting to big to sit on a twelve year old’s lap for an extended period of time, but Silas just shrugged and continued to hold his little friend tightly.

Severus looked down at the small boy next to him, looking at him indifferently. Despite Silas’ obsession with the runt, he had never spent any extended period of time with William, even while they were in Sibiu. There was something about toddlers that irritated him. Trimdol told him that it was because he never spent any time with a toddler, but Severus had just ignored him, like usual.

"Hi," William said sweetly, not the slightest bit unnerved by his stare.

"Hello," Severus answered, and William responded with a smile and a smile giggle. He held out his arms toward the man, wanting to be picked up by him.

Severus was about to turn away and just ignore the small brat when Silas spoke up. "He wants you to take him, Severus."

"I realize that," Severus answered flatly, and proceeded to take the small boy from Silas’ lap, lifting him up from under the arms. William gave him a hug and turned around to face the stage, choosing Severus as his seat for the play. Severus inwardly groaned, but he didn’t want to make a commotion by forcing the boy off his lap. Instead, he settled in for what was sure to be an extremely annoying time. Finally, a Gryffindor sixth year came out onto the stage, dressed in a bright red and yellow patterned robe that was obviously – and not too badly – transfigured.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls. Today we present you something that has never been done in the history of Hogwarts – as far as we know anyway – and we wanted to let you know that no harm was caused to any of the participates in the making of this play. We also wish to inform you that no bad feelings should come from this – all was meant in good fun! Now, on with the show!" The Gryffindor – a muggleborn, from the presentation of the introduction – disappeared behind the curtain as the lights dimmed and the curtains slowly opened to reveal . . .

The Hogwarts staff room. Severus grunted, wondering where all this was going. The grunt caused William to giggle a little and he glared down at the back of the boy’s head full of messy hair. Looking back up, he was just in time to see a Ravenclaw 7th year walk onto the stage dressed as Albus Dumbledore . . . beard, robes and all. Severus closed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. This was why Albus wanted all the professors here.

The ‘headmaster’ sat down at the table in the center of the ‘room’ and folded his hands in a very Albus-like manner, causing a nervous laugh to settle throughout the Great Hall. Shortly after, a fourth year Gryffindor came walking in as -- who would have to be -- Minerva.

"Good morning, Headmaster Dumbledore," she said sitting down and picking up a copy of Transfiguration Weekly.

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall. I trust you are looking forward to your classes today?"

"Oh, yes," she answered. "I am teaching the seventh years to transfigure a beetle into a rabbit. They are going to have quite a bit of trouble, I’m afraid."

Unbeknownst as to why, Severus heard many of the students giving a small laugh. He didn’t see what was funny. The child on his lap squirmed some, and Severus pulled him somewhat closer to get him to stop.

Next, a bad imitation of himself, portrayed by Silas’ friend Stephan, glided to the table and sat down, glaring at both ‘Albus’ and ‘Minerva’.

"Ready for the first years today, Professor Snape?" ‘Minerva’ asked.

"No," ‘Severus’ answered shortly, and the real Severus shook his head.

– – –

Fifteen minutes later, Severus was glad when the stupid skit was finally over. As the student body, Albus, Flitwick, and Trimdol stood for an applause, William managed to turn himself around in Severus’ lap and give him a tight hug before getting off his lap and into Silas’. Silas was still small for his age, and the steadily growing five year old seemed awkwardly big on the boy’s lap.

"I will see you later, Silas," he said standing, intent on leaving immediately.

"Wait, I’m coming with you! I’m done now. I just wanted to stay for the play."

"Leave the child here," Severus answered flatly, and Trimdol took William by the hand, both saying goodbye to Silas. Trimdol gave Severus another one of those annoying smiles which Severus had no choice to return with his usual, blank glare.

"That was really strange," Silas said as they left the Great Hall. "I don’t know if I liked it. I don’t like how they mentioned me. It’s like they think it’s weird that we’re brothers."

Severus looked down at his brother, trying to figure out exactly what the boy was thinking. He knew Silas didn’t like the attention, but the reference in the play was so small, most of the students would not have even realized it was in there. They were probably laughing too hard when ‘Albus’ and ‘Minerva’ started discussing transfiguration techniques in mostly gibberish to have heard.

"It will be fine, Silas," he replied, not really wanting to hear more about the . . . play.

) () () () () () () () () () () () () () (

"Did you hear?" Draco asked as he sat down at the Ravenclaw table, squeezing himself in between Silas and Stephan. "They’re planning for the Triwizard Tournament next year."

"Really?" Stephan asked.

"What’s that?" Silas asked.

"A tournament between Hogwarts and two other schools. It was banned a long time ago."

"They’re making new rules. Now, you have to be seventeen to enter, fifteen with parent’s permission."

"But what’s the point?" Silas asked.

"Fame," Stephan answered as if it were obvious. "And prize money. Only three people every four years get to play, and the winner is remembered forever!"

"I don’t see what’s so great about that," Silas shrugged. "I’m glad it’s warming up, though. Winter’s been way too long, and the Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff game is next Saturday!"

"I don’t see what you’re worried about," Draco said smugly. "You haven’t missed catching the snitch once. You’ve made up for all those points your team haven’t been making."

"Hey," Stephan and Silas said together. "That’s unfair," Stephan continued.

"But true. It’s the only reason Ravenclaw is second so far. You’d be first if you’d have beaten us."

"You’ll see," Stephan rebutted. "We’ll come in first."

"I can’t believe how fast this year’s gone by," Silas heard as he tuned his friends out. It was a seventh year Ravenclaw, a boy who was sitting a few people down. "March already."

"I know. Almost out of Hogwarts," said another boy.

"I’m going to miss this place so much!" said a girl. "I want to come back a teach someday. Maybe transfiguration or charms. I haven’t decided which I’m going to apprentice for. I’m speaking with the Charms United group this weekend to see if I’d like it there."

"Have fun with that," said a boy. "I heard they weren’t too nice to new employees."

"I need to speak with Professor Trimdol," Silas said, realizing afterwards he interrupted an argument between his two friends, but not really caring. "Meet you in the library at seven?"

"Charms homework," Draco nodded. "Bye."

"Bye," Silas answered, and he left the Great Hall and made his way to Trimdol’s office. When he got there, he knocked on the door and was let in immediately.

"What can I do for you, Silas?" he asked as Silas sat in one of the lounge chairs.

"Nothing much. Just wanted to talk," he answered. "Anything exciting for class this week?"

"You’ll have to wait and see," Trimdol said with a smile, but as he sat down he picked up a letter and was distracted with reading it. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Trimdol stood up again. "I’m sorry, Silas. I am quite busy right now. I’m behind with my lessons this week. How about you come to my rooms this weekend. Play with William for a bit."

"Okay," Silas said, disappointed, as Trimdol ushered him out quickly. He was expecting to stay with Trimdol for at least two hours, as it was only four-thirty, but slowly trudged down to his brother’s office. He had been feeling very odd for the past two weeks and he had been hoping that Trimdol could have helped to make him laugh. For some reason, Draco and Stephan had no success. Not since the dreams started.

Maybe I should tell Severus, he thought and wondered if it would do any good. He didn’t want to seem like an annoying little brother who couldn’t handle anything on his own. Several times over the past year, he had overheard other students, mostly older, complain about how annoying their younger siblings were, and he had wondered if Severus thought of him in that way.

Severus’ office door was open when he arrived, so he let himself in without knocking at sat down across from his brother, who was grading. At first, Severus just looked up at him a few times, but eventually, he put down his quill and gave Silas his full attention.

"What’s wrong?"

"Nothing," Silas answered, not especially truthful. Severus sighed and stood up, took Silas by the hand as he closed the office door and gently pulled him along into his quarters before sitting him down in his usual seat. Severus sat down next to him.

"Silas? Something’s wrong, I can tell." Silas shrugged as if it were no big deal.

"I’ve just been having nightmares lately. Nothing important."

"What kind of nightmares?" his brother asked softly in an attempt to get his brother to open up.

"I . . . I think people are dying in them. I don’t really remember much, though."

"But they still bother you?"

Silas nodded. He closed his eyes as Severus brushed the hair away from his forehead and, not knowing what else to say, suggested a game.

"What kind of game?" Silas asked.

"What about chess?" Severus suggested, and Silas shook his head.

"How about that muggle game you bought me before? I haven’t played it yet . . ." Silas smiled as Severus relented and he ran off to his room to his room and grabbed the game. When he got back, Severus was sitting at the table waiting for him and Silas sat down across from him, opening the box and handing Severus the instructions. He pulled out the game board and all the pieces, taking care to not ruin any of the bags that everything came in.

As Severus explained the game to him, Silas looked up at his brother with a smile, feeling much better. Maybe he didn’t need a laugh. Maybe he just needed to spend time with Severus to feel better.

"Hey, kid," James-the-ghost said, sitting down next to Silas. "I heard Sirius wants to talk to me."

"Yeah," Silas answered. "I kind of mentioned you in a letter and . . . well, he got really excited."

"That’s good," James said nonchalantly, as if it didn’t matter if he saw his friend. "When is he coming?"

"I don’t know if he is," the second year Ravenclaw answered, getting a stunned look from his adoptive father. "You see, I’m still not supposed to be seeing you, remember? Severus will get mad."

"Tell Snivellous to shove off," James snapped, and Silas glared at him.

"I’m not going to tell my brother to shove off," the boy snapped back. They sat glaring at each other for a few moments before James seemed to forget about it, bringing up another topic. "Anyway, there’s someone you have to meet. She’s been around for awhile, actually, but I didn’t know until a week ago."

"Who?" Silas asked, his curiosity peaked.

"You’ll have to guess, but I’ll give you a clue. She’s a ghost like me."

"That helps," Silas answered sarcastically.

"It should," James said with a shrug and a smirk. Silas sat, thinking for a minute.

"I give up."

"Oh, come on. You can’t give up like that. Because of that, you’re not going to get to meet her!"

"Oh, you’re the one who should be shoving off, James," a vaguely familiar voice snapped, and Silas turned to look at the still semi-transparent woman. Eileen. Looking old, but still sounding young. It was an odd combination.

"Mom?" Silas asked hesitantly and a bit awkwardly.

"Hello, Silas," she replied with a sad smile and Silas was grateful when she didn’t stick around, but he felt a little bad about not wanting her around.

"So, you’ve met her before?" James asked, and Silas shook his head, paused, then nodded before deciding to shake his head again. "Well, make up your mind!"

"In the dream, I did!"

"Ah, the dream," his father said sadly. Silas stood up suddenly, causing James to actually sit up . . . a seemingly rare feat for the ghost. "Where you going?"

"To tell Severus. He’d like to know his mother is here," he said, not catching what he had said immediately. It wasn’t until James had stopped him by catching his wrist and he saw the look on James’ face did he realize.

"His mother, Silas?" he asked. "Your mother, too! She cared about you enough to give you up so you wouldn’t get hurt!"

Silas pulled his arm away from his adoptive father and glared at him. "She abandoned me," he snapped. "She didn’t want to take the effort it would have been to take me away from the Dursley’s. She waited until she died before she let anyone know! I could have grown up with a family, but instead I was just left on the doorstep of false relatives who never even wanted me!"

"Silas, Snape only took you in because Eileen asked it of him. If she hadn’t, he probably would have left you right where you were, with the muggles. You can’t possibly think that Snape is at all a good person or that he actually . . ." James trailed off, his sight on something behind Silas.

"Or what? Or that he actually cares about me? Of course he does!" Silas snapped, the magic around him flowing as if it picked up his distress and were trying to get far enough away from the potential danger. James didn’t appear to notice, though, as he continued to look past Silas and the Ravenclaw looked over his shoulder to spot Eileen. Angry, he stood up and ran out of the room on the third floor, making his way to the common room at an alarmingly fast pace.

_-_-_-_-__-__

Severus was, as he usually was on a Thursday night, grading seventh year papers. As the papers were on original topics of their choice, pre-approve by him, they were rather interesting to read. Thus, he was in a strangely good mood when a crash came from Silas’ room and instead of check on the source immediately, he continued reading, thinking that Silas had just dropped something. It took him a few minutes to realize that Silas wasn’t spending the night and that it was several hours past curfew.

Slowly, Severus stood up and made his way to his brother’s bedroom and opened the door. His attention was immediately pulled to Potter, who was throwing books around, clearly angry, but before his mind could fully comprehend what the ghost was doing, he heard a voice he had never expected to hear again.

"Potter, you will stop it this moment," she snapped.

"Or what?" Potter said, throwing another book, this one at Severus himself. Stunned, he wasn’t able to dodge it and slammed into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. "You’ll tell Snape? I think he knows!"

"Out!" Severus yelled suddenly, gaining him bearings. Amazingly, the ghost listened and he disappeared. It took him a few more seconds to calm down and face his mother.

"Severus," she said, looking at him with joy that he hadn’t remembered when she was alive.

"Mom," he answered, doing his best not to show how excited he was to see her. "How . . . how long?"

"Long enough to know some things," she replied. "Like how well you and Silas get along. And how he has no wish to get to know me."

"He would," Severus started, but then stopped, seeing his mother shake his head.

"I’ve been watching for awhile. He won’t forgive."

"I think he will, eventually. Just–."

"Severus?" Silas called from outside the room, startling Severus.

"Silas, what are you doing here after curfew?" he asked, not bothering to move from his spot. He heard footsteps – more than one pair – walk toward the room and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Silas enter hesitantly.

"What are you doing . . ." Silas trailed off. "What happened to my room?" he asked accusingly.

"Potter happened," Severus snapped. "Was throwing everything around."

"How do you mean?" Dumbledore asked, gently pushing Silas aside to enter the room. "It’s the cleanest I’ve ever seen a young boy’s room."

The two brothers looked at the headmaster questioningly. The room was, for the lack of any better phrase, a disaster. Books were now littering the floor and the bed, some open at odd angles from being thrown carelessly, and the oil lamp that had been on the bedside table was knocked over and broken, the oil leaked onto the bed.

"Everything messed up!" Silas pointed out.

"No," Dumbledore said slowly. "There is nothing out of place. Let’s go to the sitting room." Confused, both Silas and Severus followed the old man without questioning, barely noticing that Eileen was no longer in the room.

"You’re hinting that we’re crazy," Severus said flatly, refusing to sit down where Dumbledore indicated. Silas, dressed in his pajamas and socks, willingly sat down on the couch and curled up.

"I have news you might be interested it," Dumbledore finally said, sitting down himself. "I have heard from the Department of Mysteries and about Chimera that had appeared."

"What does that have to do with us?" Silas asked. "And couldn’t it have waited until morning?" he grumbled.

"It probably could have, but I’d like to leave that decision to you. When the Department of Mysteries first claimed it, it was a whole Chimera. Nothing suggested otherwise, until it slowly became to fade. It when then that they decided to look into it being created . . . not from breeding, but from magic. I was contacted an hour ago, the department telling me they found the source that created it."

"How did they find out?" Severus asked, unwilling to see where this was going.

"This afternoon, it became solid again. They were able to trace the magic to Hogwarts, in that third corridor room. They wish to investigate."

"So, what does that mean?" Silas asked, sitting up. "Was it the ghosts?"

"I don’t believe so," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "In fact, I think tonight may have just proved several things. One, Silas, you are very . . . powerful. Two . . . the ghosts are not in fact ghosts, but a backlash of that spell you cast nearly two years ago."

"I thought we already agreed on that," Severus said forcefully.

"Yes, but not in the way I am indicating tonight. You both agree that the next room is a complete disaster?" Both brothers nodded. "In contrast, I see nothing but a well organized room. I could be wrong, very wrong, but I do pride myself on interpreting situations well. I think you ‘ll agree that I am, in fact, rarely wrong in these cases? I believe that the backlash of the spell has convinced you that what you see is real . . . as Silas saw the dream he had as real. All of it is based on real events, real people, but was merely taken from your mind and made real only to you."

"You are telling us we’re crazy," Severus said with a glare. "I will not stand for–."

"Severus, I’d like to test a theory," Dumbledore interrupted. "If you two would both go back to the room and tell me what you see?"

Silas was the first to comply, glancing back suspiciously at the headmaster as he walked to his room. He briefly glanced in before turning around to find Severus standing behind him.

"It’s clean," Silas whispered. "It’s how I left it before!"

"Headmaster," Severus said in a low, dangerous voice after peeking in himself. "What game are you playing?"

"I am playing no game, Severus. What would I have to gain from this?" he asked, his voice betraying a bit of sadness. Severus felt a little bad, but still didn’t trust that the headmaster hadn’t done this himself. "I am telling you this because if the Department of Mysteries traces it back to Silas, it would be best to work with them. They could help quite a bit."

"Silas," Severus said quietly. "Go to your room."

"Why?"

"Go. Now," he replied shortly. Obviously angry, Silas stood up and slammed his door once he got to his room. Not knowing whether or not Silas was angry enough not to eavesdrop, he quickly put up a warding bubble around him and the old man before turning to face him.

"He’s a child," Severus stated.

"I know he is Severus."

"He’s a child, not the bloody boy who lived. You are not to put ideas into his head. It’s hard enough to keep him out of trouble as it is."

"Severus," Dumbledore said quietly, then waited for the potions master to calmly face him. "I’m not trying to put ideas in his head. But you can’t ignore the fact that he is Harry Potter. Fate will win no matter how hard you try to avoid it. And if my theories are correct, he could be powerful. We already know he is clever, and if it was him who summoned that chimera accidently . . . his powers will need to get under control."

"The room, though . . ."

"And I did not do anything to that room. Nor am I saying you are mad. I believe the magic from the incorrectly ended spell from your brother has affected both of you. Now that you see a possibility that it is not real, the magic doesn’t have the control it had before to making you believe what you saw was real."

Severus couldn’t think of anything in response to that. Instead, his mind was processing what Dumbledore had told him.

"Do you see why I suggest working with the Department of Mysteries?"

"You are asking if I would work with a Department. Are there no wizards working there?" Severus asked after a moment of silences, stalling.

"Of course. But they are very . . . secretive. By the nature of the job, of course."

"Of course."

"Which would work to your benefit.

Severus couldn’t help but not answering. He was tired, annoyed, and a little confused. He was sure that if any words would come to him, he wouldn’t say them anyway. Being careful of what you said about anyone – especially someone like Dumbledore – was a hard habit to break. It didn’t help his trust issues, either, that the old man had taken a special interest in his young brother. Talking to the other professors to see how he was doing in his classes, holding conversations with the boy . . . it wasn’t something that a headmaster of a large school usually did, unless the circumstances were unique. Granted, he was the brother of one of the professors he employed, but his interest seemed to go beyond that.

Perhaps he was reading too much into it, but just in case, he regressed to the older days of spying in a matter of a few minutes, all this going through his head. Perhaps contacting Lucius would be beneficial.

"I will think about it," Severus said shortly, standing up to indicate the old man’s presence was no longer wanted. Dumbledore nodded and slowly stood up and they both walked toward the door.

"That is all I ask, Severus," Dumbledore responded quietly before leaving Severus to his silence.

Severus didn’t immediately go to his brother. He knew Silas would ask what they had talked about and he couldn’t decide whether or not he should let the boy know. He himself knew that if someone would keep information like this from him he would be angry, but . . . Silas was only twelve. A twelve year old boy who wanted to be normal.

And how it’s been so far, life hadn’t been normal for the boy. He found himself wanting to change that but not knowing exactly how to precede.

Unable to make a decision, Severus walked to Silas’ door before knocking softly, hesitantly. Not getting an answer, he knocked a little louder, finally deciding just to walk in after a few minutes of not getting answer to the sporadic knocks.

Silas was sitting on the floor in a corner of the room. The walls surrounding him and the floor were stone, and Severus briefly wondered how long he had been sitting there – it couldn’t have been comfortable.

"Silas?" he asked, walking over to him, but Silas didn’t answer. Instead, the look he gave Severus made him stop walking. "Silas?" he asked again, but there was no answer for a few minutes.

"Get out," Silas said quietly, but his voice was slightly bitter. Not quite to the level of being angry, but . . . it was obvious he wanted to be alone.

"It’s time to be getting to bed," Severus said without emotion, taking a step backwards. When Silas didn’t look at him, he left, closing the door softly behind him. It was probably best if they didn’t see each other until morning, anyway. Severus was still confused as to what he was going to tell his brother . . . his charge, for a lack of a better word. More than a brother, he was a child that needed taking care of. He was an older brother, yes, but at times, he needed to act like a father. Perhaps most of the time he should act like a father.

He couldn’t help but thinking that it wasn’t supposed to be that way. That something had been off-balanced and that something was about to go horribly wrong.

In less than five years, Silas would be an adult. In comparison to everything else, it felt like such a short time, and there was the foreboding feeling that Silas would go on his own way, parting from him as Severus parted from his parents.

When he reached his own bedroom, he found he wanted to speak to his mother. Even if she couldn’t tell him what to do – Severus had to admit, especially after finding out about Silas, that was wasn’t the best a decision making – it would feel so good to see her again. He hadn’t seen her for four years before she died. In fact, he had no idea she was dying until he was contacted by the department for the reading of her will.

He regretted it deeply.

"It’s okay, Severus, my Severus," he heard from behind him, and he turned around to find her standing in the open doorway that just moments ago he had closed.

"Mum," he said quietly, almost longingly. He wanted to believe she was there . . . couldn’t believe she wasn’t, no matter what the old man told him. He had closed the door . . . there was no way he could be imagining that it was open. He saw it open. He saw his mother walking over to the desk he used for storing personal items and pick up the framed photo of him and Silas . . . one he had kept despite that it was Trimdol who had taken it. He saw her walk over to him and felt her give him hug. A warm, comforting, real hug, even though she was still a slightly transparent ghost.

There was no way she wasn’t real.

_-_-_-__-_-_-__-_--_-_

Silas woke slowly, his mind only registering that he was cold. Eventually, he realized he was on a floor and a little sore, his slow pounding in his head that was echoing the beating of his heart. After a bit, he willed himself to open his eyes, and he found himself in his room in Severus’ quarters. He remembered Flitwick coming to find him and bring him to Dumbledore, only to be brought to Severus with no explanation other than that there was, "something to discuss with the both of you."

He remembered the conversation, Severus telling him to go to his room, him slamming his door. After that, though . . .

I must have fallen asleep, he thought, but he wondered why he had done so in the corner of his room on the floor. He remembered being angry, but that was it.

He also didn’t remember Severus coming in or Dumbledore leaving. Had Severus just left him in his room? Perhaps it was because he slammed the door . . . maybe his brother was mad at him. He hoped not. After all, he wasn’t really that mad at Severus. Well, he was last night, but not anymore.

Slowly, he was able to stand up and stretch, loosening his muscles that had stiffened over the night before opening his door and walking out into the main room of the quarters. Severus wasn’t out there and he debated whether or not he should knock on his brother’s door, which was a crack open. He was at the door, arm up and fist loosely clenched, but he couldn’t bring himself to knock. Instead, he walked back to his room, changed quickly into clean clothes and left.

He saw just a few students wandering the halls on his way to the Ravenclaw common room and he guessed it was still early morning. Early enough for there to be food in the Great Hall, but not late enough for too many students to be awake. It had to have been early enough that none of his classmates from Ravenclaw were up yet – most of them where late sleepers as they usually went to bed a little later than he usually did – and he decided that it was a good time for breakfast. He really wasn’t in the mood to talk to his friends right now.

_-_-_-_-_-___–_-_-_--_-_

Even after talking with his mother for a couple of hours before she left through the door, leaving it open a crack as she used to do when he was a small child, he wasn’t able to sleep peacefully. He had woken up several times throughout the night and felt in no mood to get up and teach five classes that day. He found he did want to talk to Silas, even if it was just to see if the boy was still mad at him, so that propelled him, albeit a bit slow, out of bed and to Silas’s door, still in what he had slept in.

He wasn’t expecting Silas to be awake, so he cautiously opened the door and peeked in. Not seeing the boy on his bed, his eyes went immediately to where he had found Silas the night before and then entered when Silas wasn’t there, either. Spotting the discarded clothes on the neatly-made bed, it hit Severus that his brother had already left for the morning or perhaps sometime during the night.

It hit him suddenly and hard, a feeling of discomfort that he couldn’t readily place. So, Silas left before he had woken up. Silas was an early riser, and it wasn’t the first time he left to get ready for the day without saying good bye.

Still, the events during the night had unsettled him. It was easy to forget that Silas wasn’t exactly a trusting person after living with him for nearly two years. He had gotten so used to his presence – and his occasional talk-back attitude – that he had more or less forgotten about how the child was treated at the Dursleys.

With this thought bouncing through his head as he walked to the bathroom to take a bath, he gave another thought to telling Silas what Dumbledore had told him. He still had a bad feeling about telling Silas . . .

_-_-_-_-_-_-_—_-_-_

Second year Ravenclaws had potions on Fridays . . . a fact that he had forgotten about between yesterday and the moment he saw them wander in early. He watched as Stephan walked in with Draco, Silas not in sight. Right before he started class, though, Silas quickly walked in and sat down in his usual seat next to Stephan. It was obvious the child was avoiding looking at him and Severus knew that he had to do something about it. After classes today, Severus decided. I’ll bring him somewhere.

The first class of the day went by painstakingly slow, and the four classes after that even slower. He couldn’t concentrate on teaching and by the time his fourth class arrived, sixth years, he passed out copies of a book they hadn’t seen before and had them write a quick essay on the effects of one non-magical herb in potion using only their text and the new book while he thought about what he was going to do.

Honestly, he had no idea why he was so confused about it. Yes, there was always that magical blood connection between siblings that would make them close – usually stronger in those of the same gender – but he had never heard of it being strong enough to confuse someone like this.

Probably something else he should ask the headmaster about, although he was still angry with the man for accusing him of being mad. He realized now that he shouldn’t have accused him of tricking them into believing they were crazy. It wasn’t something the headmaster would do, no matter how Severus didn’t entirely trust the man. The issue of trust was on a deeper level than that. One he never completely understood.

As the fourth year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs left the classroom, Severus called up a Ravenclaw that was in Silas’ Ancient Runes class and told her to find Silas and tell him that he needed to speak to him. She nodded, obviously embarrassed and nervous at being kept after class, and left.

Realizing that he had wasted the entire day worrying about what he was going to tell Silas, he gathered his belongings and made his way to his office to wait for his brother.

He waited two hours before he decided to get up and walk to his rooms. As he opened the office door, though, he found Silas outside, sitting on the floor next to the door with his knees brought up and his forehead resting on them.

"Come in, Silas," Severus said quietly, causing the child to jerk and look at him questioningly. After a second, he stood up shakily and followed him back into the office. When Severus turned around, he saw that his brother was silently crying. "What’s wrong?"

"You’re mad at me. I was bad yesterday," Silas answered, his tone sounding older than he was while his words made him sound younger.

"I am not mad at you," Severus assured him.

"If you’re not mad at me . . ." Silas said, trailing off. "If you’re not mad at me, why didn’t you come to see me after the headmaster left? You usually say goodnight when I stay in your rooms."

Severus just stared at his brother. Yet again, an apprehensive feeling swept over him like cold water in his veins.

"I did," he answered. "You told me to leave."

"I . . . I did?"

The brothers couldn’t do more than stand there until Severus took him by the hand and lead him slowly to the Hospital Wing. Something wasn’t right, and they were going to learn what it was.

"Severus, there is nothing wrong with him."

"Something’s wrong."

"You said he sleep walks. He was probably just asleep."

"He’s been taking a potion."

"Potions can’t solve everything."

"That’s not the point," Silas heard his brother say bitterly. "We’ve both been seeing things. People. Ghost like, sometimes, but only we can see them. Albus believes it might be in our heads, a result of that spell Silas cast in his first year, but they are real. We can touch and feel them."

"And how does that tie in?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"I don’t know!"

It was silent for awhile before Silas heard the mediwitch speak up again.

"Explain what happened again?"

"He didn’t remember me coming into his room and him telling me to get out last night."

"Severus, it just sounds like he was sleepwalking. Keep an eye on him, take him to see that mediwizard again . . . I can’t find anything wrong with him."

It was quiet again and after awhile, Silas opened his eyes to see Severus looking at him

"I really don’t remember, Severus," he said, sitting up.

"It’s okay," Severus replied, helping him out of bed. "Madam Pomfrey believes you are sleepwalking again."

"Oh."

"I’ll make an appointment with the mediwitch Keilly. I would like it if you continue to spend nights in my rooms."

"May I please stay in the dorm room tonight?" he asked and Severus nodded after a bit. "May I go to the common room now?" Silas asked, and Severus nodded again.Silas left the infirmary. He was really confused. Now he was making trouble for Severus and he couldn’t even remember it!

Instead of walking to the Ravenclaw common room, Silas instead found himself outside the third corridor classroom and he entered with very little hesitation. It was always easier to think there. After quietly closing the door after he entered, he turned around to find a man standing there staring at him. A familiar man.

"You must be Silas," the man said, and Silas nodded. The man looked over him slowly before nodding. "Another wizard, I suppose."

"You’re . . . my dad," Silas said softly.

"Yes."

"My . . . er . . . Eileen gave me up because of you," he said, even softer. He honestly didn’t know whether to be angry at seeing the man – the father who would have hated him had he stayed with them – or . . . he didn’t know.

"Not one for much self preservation, are you, kid?" Tobias asked, and Silas gave him a weird look. "I’m not drunk, kid. And I would never have hurt you."

"You wouldn’t have?"

Tobias was silent for a few seconds before shrugging.

"I might have. I drank a lot back then." Tobias looked over him again. "You look so much like Severus. Messed up with him, didn’t I?"

"No you didn’t!" Silas snapped harshly.

"And you don’t know much," Tobias said bitterly. "You don’t know much at all." He looked toward the door. "Go talk to your mother."

"Why? Why would I do that? She didn’t want me then, why would she want me now?"

"Don’t talk to me like that, boy," Tobias growled, stepping toward him. "You will talk to your mother."

"She’s not my mother!" Silas shouted. "You’re not my father! I don’t care!" With that, Silas ran from the room, slamming the door open in his attempt to get far away from those that prevented him from having a normal life. Down on the second floor, Silas stopped to catch his breath. Not wanting to go to Severus, Silas did decide to go to the common room and find Stephan. Maybe get him to play a game so he could not think about Tobias and Eileen and the entire sleepwalking problem. He just wanted everything to go . . . normally for once. Apparently, that just wasn’t going to happen.

"Silas!" he heard Stephan yell from behind him. "I’ve been looking for you. Jack Greenwood’s challenged you to a chess game."

"Who?"

"A fifth year," Stephan shrugged. "Someone mentioned that he couldn’t beat you and he claimed he could and then everyone started taking sides . . ."

"What?"

"I told them I was sure you could beat him."

"You what? Why?"

"Because I think you can. Anyway, everyone’s waiting. Come on," Stephan said and begun pulling Silas by the hand up the stairs.

In the common room, a boy Silas assumed was Greenwood was sitting in front of a setup chessboard and the common room held a lot of students. Silas paused in the entrance, not wanting to be the center of attention like that. There had to be at least fifty students waiting for him!

Unfortunately, Stephan pulled him further into the room and then pushed him toward the seat on the opposite side of the chess board. Reluctantly, he sat down and Greenwood made his first move without a word. Sending a glare at his friend, Silas made his move. About a half an hour later, the audience started getting bored and began talking among themselves, much to Silas’ relief. The game lasted for an hour more, with Silas winning the game. Either Greenwood wasn’t that good at chess or he wasn’t trying . . . or he was just being cocky.

That done, Silas ignored the jibes toward his opponent for losing and walked out of the common room. He could just make the end of supper if he hurried, and maybe Draco would be there. He ignored Stephan, who followed after him, and walked even quicker.

"Silas! Come on, you aren’t mad at me, are you? You won!" he yelled, catching up and grabbing Silas by the arm.

"You know I don’t like stuff like that, Stephan," Silas said, pulling his arm away.

"Yeah. Right. I know. But you’re good, y’know? And you have even known how to play chess long."

"You have a point?"

"What?" Stephan asked, offended. "It’s not as if we were taking bets!"

"Yeah," Silas answered bitterly. "Have you seen Draco?"

"Not recently. Probably in the Great Hall."

Sure enough, Draco was there with Crabbe and Goyle, telling them a story of one of his ‘adventures’ on a broom – one where he and Silas were playing in the woods. Although, Draco’s version of it, from what Silas heard, was different than he remembered it.

- - -

Silas woke up with a headache. Opening one eye, he slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes. Throwing the warm covers off himself, he immediately noticed the journal that was on the table next to his bed. He looked at it suspiciously before looking around the dorm room at the other boys before looking back at it. It was plain and mostly covered in a blue cloth; it might have been one of his roommates, but then why was it on his table?

Silas poked at it with his wand. When nothing happened, he carefully picked it up and looked around before opening the front cover. On the bottom left corner of the cover was the letters, ‘SSP’.

His own initials. Silas Secundus Prince. He tried to remember the initials of his roommates, but he knew none of them had the same initials.

Maybe a gift from Severus, he thought, flipping to the next page, there was writing. Dated earlier that morning, while he was sleeping, was an entry. The handwriting was definitely not familiar. Curious, he took one last look around the room, closed the curtains around his bed and began reading.

Making sure his dormmates weren’t awake yet, he took out a quill and concentrated on making it look like a ink pen. Doubling checking the directions, he whispered the incantation and waved his wand. Nothing happened. Narrowing his eyes, he said the incantation to himself several times, making sure he was saying it right, before concentrating again, trying the spell one more time. It took two more tries before he had a large pen sitting in front of him. Picking it up, he found it still felt like a feather quill.

Silas was about to go to the next chapter, but Stephan started to move, so he put away the stolen book and his own books quickly. Making a split second decision, he dressed, grabbed the journal, ink and a quill and the rest of his school things for the day before he left quietly. As it was early, the flickering lights of the candles were low and he wasn’t paying a lot of attention to where he was going, he found himself falling down the stairs. At the bottom, he hit his head against the stone wall and then everything went black.

- - - - - - – - - -

Severus dismissed his fourth year class – his first class of the day – and he left the classroom to find Albus waiting for him outside the room.

"Silas is in the hospital wing," the headmaster said quietly once everyone was out of hearing range. "I will cover your next class."

Severus looked at the old wizard, confused for a second, before he finally comprehended what he had said. Wondering what had happened for Silas to be in the infirmary, he quickly made his way there.

Madam Pomfrey appeared to have been waiting for him because as soon as he got there, she led him to a bed near the windows where his brother way laying.

"He was found at the bottom of the Ravenclaw tower stairs. He probably tripped, but it was most likely hours before anyone woke and found him. He lost quite a bit of blood."

"He went back to sleep?"

"I gave him the maximum amount of Blood Replenishers, but he hasn’t woken up yet."

"What?" Severus asked harshly. "Why wasn’t I told immediately?"

"He’ll be fine, Severus. I have a stasis charm on him right now, and in an hour, I will be able to give him more replenishers. I won’t release him until tomorrow morning at the earliest, though. Oh, and his book bag is next to the bed. I imagine he was going to study."

"Thank you, Poppy," Severus said flatly, then pulled up a chair and sat down hard on it and watched his brother’s shallow breath. Severus had a feeling that it was more than Silas just planning to study, especially considering the events where they learned he was sleepwalking: injuring himself during the night. He would see whether or not Silas remembered what had happened when he woke up, but there was no way the boy was sleeping in the tower any longer. He already made an appointment for the next day with the mediwitch so they could check up again.

Unexpectedly, Silas’ breathing started to pick up, and although it was still slower than what was normal, it shouldn’t be happening because of the stasis spell, which was supposed to slow his metabolism. Even more unexpected, Silas eyes suddenly opened, and he sat up, looking around wildly. Once their eyes locked, the boy closed his eyes and leaned back slowly.

"Silas?"

"My head hurts," he answered.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Yeah, I fell down the stairs," Silas said quietly, rubbing his head. "I was going to go to the library."

"That early in the morning?" Severus asked, not entirely believing his brother. "I don’t approve of lies, Silas," he warned.

"I’m not lying! It was five in the morning. I’ve gone to the library that early before! Besides, I couldn’t sleep because of a headache."

"You had a headache before you fell?"

"Yes. I woke up with one."

Severus hesitated, but after a moment put his hand on his brother’s shoulder."

"We will be meeting with the mediwitch tomorrow."

"Can I leave, now?" Silas asked, nearly whining, and Severus shot him a stern look and shook his head. A few minutes later, Pomfrey came in and checked him over. Severus watched as a confused look overcame her and she kept checking the boy’s head.

"It’s completely healed," she muttered.

"You gave me potions, right?" Silas said, his voice portraying annoyance. "So it should have healed." Severus grabbed his brother’s shoulder a bit and squeezed, a warning to behave. Silas shot him a look that said he didn’t care, and Severus glared.

"I didn’t give any to heal the wound," she said, ignoring the boy’s temper. "Just to stop the bleeding."

"Well, I feel fine, aside from my headache," he answered bitterly. "Can’t I just go?"

"No, you may not just go," Poppy said as she walked to a potions cabinet and pulled out a potion. "Take this," she told Silas. He did, quickly, and he was soon back to sleep.

"You said he healed quickly . . ." Severus instigated.

"Perhaps I did give him a healing potion, but I don’t remember it. It doesn’t make sense, though. I never forget things as that."

Severus just looked back as his brother.

- - - - - -

Harry woke up in the hospital wing with no one around. He still had a headache, but it wasn’t as bad as it was before. Sitting up slowly, he got out of bed and snuck to the mediwitch’s closed office door. It didn’t sound like she was in there, so he went back to the bed. He found his bag next to it, so he took out the journal and reread the note.

It didn’t make sense at all, the same as everything lately, it seemed. Who could the writer possibly be? And how did he heal so fast if Madam Pomfrey didn’t give him a potion to help? Were the events connected? And the book. What was so important about the book? . . .

Silas grabbed his inkwell and quill out of his bag, balanced everything carefully. Dipping the quill in the ink, he wrote in his neatest handwriting.

Silas couldn’t think of anything else to write. That, and he was afraid of being caught by Madam Pomfrey. Putting away the ink and quill and blowing on the ink to make sure it was dry, he also put away the journal and took out his Charms and DADA books to see if there were anything on illusions in them. He didn’t think so, as he had went through them all before, but he had to make sure. If only he knew what the mystery writer was looking for, it would be so much easier!

When Severus came in about fifteen minutes later – there was no clock in the area to be sure – carrying a try of food, Silas realized how hungry he was.

"How are you feeling?" Severus asked, and Silas shrugged.

"Better," he answered.

"Good. Madam Pomfrey said you are staying the night, but you slept through breakfast and lunch, so I had the elves make a platter for you."

"Thank you," Silas said, starting to eat as soon as the food was set in front of him.

"Silas," Severus said after he ate most of the food. "I expect you to not have a bad attitude, even when you are not feeling well, understand?"

"What do you mean?" Silas asked, some food still in his mouth.

"Before, when you woke up, you were horribly rude to Madam Pomfrey and myself."

"Oh." Silas was silent for a bit, trying to remember what exactly had happened. He must have been still half asleep, because he couldn’t really remember much aside from wanting to leave the infirmary. "Sorry," he said after awhile, then continued to eat a little slower this time. "I don’t mean to cause problems."

"I know, Silas," Severus said quietly, standing up and putting another potion on the tray. "I need to speak with the Headmaster. When you are finished eating, take the sleeping draught."

"I don’t want to sleep more, Severus," Silas said, pushing away the remains of his food, which wasn’t much, considering how he usually ate.

"It’s the only way to ensure you don’t sleepwalk," Severus answered. "Madam Pomfrey refuses to release you and I can’t stay here all night."

"Would the sleeping draught work?" Silas asked.

"It should. Please, Silas. Tomorrow, we’ll see what’s wrong."

Silas looked down picking up the sleeping draught and Severus took the tray and put it on the bedside table. Refusing to look at his brother, Silas downed the potion.

– – - - - - -

The next morning, Silas’ headache was back at full strength. He hid under the covers for a few minutes until he realized he really had to go to the bathroom. He rolled purposefully off the bed, accidently hitting his head on the bed on the way down and landing hard on the stone floor on his hands and knees. Realizing this day was off to as bad as a start as the day before, he hurried to the infirmary bathroom.

Done with the bathroom, Silas went immediately to his bag, threw his Charms and DADA books on the bed – Severus or Pomfrey must have put them away – and took out the journal. He opened it, skimming over the original entry and his own writing before turning the page again.

There was another entry. He paused before reading it. It was longer than the previous one, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to get into this, whatever it was. He was talking to an unknown person! It could be anyone!

His curiosity won, though and he crawled up onto the bed, looked outside – it was raining quite hard – and then turned back to the journal.

Silas read through the letter a second time, his eyes wide. Suddenly, he slammed the cover closed and threw it into his bag. Whoever the person was, they knew he was Harry Potter. As for who he was, he was Silas! Not Harry Potter. One of the things he wanted most was to put his life before meeting Severus behind him. He wanted nothing to do with the Dursleys, and now that he hadn’t seen James since he destroyed his room, he was tempted to not bother with him anymore, either.

Madam Pomfrey and Severus walked into the infirmary to find Silas sitting on the bed, his arms crossed.

"How are you feeling," Severus asked again.

"I have a headache," he answered flatly. Pomfrey nodded, like she expected that, and handed him a potion. He took it, and his headache dulled to a manageable pounding. "Thanks," he said, in a better mood now that Severus was here. The good feeling was dulled slightly by the fact that he had to go to St. Mungo’s today, but at least he wouldn’t be in the infirmary.

- - - - – -

The rest of the day went smoothly as it possibly could in the state Silas was in. Even when they went to talk to the mediwitch, he couldn’t think about much of anything besides who this person could be. He thought of Draco, but he realized Draco wouldn’t do something like that and besides, Draco couldn’t get into the Ravenclaw common room on his own. Stephan could, though . . . He decided against both of them. Draco was like a brother and Stephan his best friend, even when he was forcing him into things.

That left him at a dead end, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t think of anything else.

That is, until he got back to Hogwarts, and he was nearly run over by a runaway cart. Luckily, he wasn’t hurt other than a run over foot – which was healed quickly by Hogwart’s mediwitch.

Just glad for the day to be over, Silas fell onto his bed in Severus’ rooms and fell asleep, without remembering to write a response to the journal person.

Silas was glad for the summer, even if Aunt Cissy was taking him to St. Mungos in an hour because he kept on getting hurt throughout the day. At first, he thought he was just getting clumsy, but after three months of what could only be described as constant bad luck and he hadn’t seemed to be hexed (Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore, Professor Flitwick and Severus checked over him), Severus told him he was going to a specialist at St. Mungos. As Severus had to spend the day at Hogwarts because of some teacher emergency, Aunt Cissy offered to take him. Silas would have chosen Severus if he had a choice – going to the doctor with his Aunt felt strange – but Severus didn’t give him a choice.

Bored because Draco decided to take a nap (Silas made sure to stress that he was being a baby, as it was one in the afternoon), Silas decided to take out the mysterious journal and look over the few entries in there again. Only two additional entries had showed up over the past few months, and neither of them said anything more than, "I got another book," and "Stop asking so many questions." After the last one, Silas didn’t write back, finding it pointless.

Still, after he thought about it for awhile, Silas did bring the journal to Severus so he could check it for curses and other things. He told Severus that he was writing back and forth to someone in the school and he wanted to make sure there weren’t any curses on it. The only sort of magic that was on the journal was a charm to prevent anyone but Silas – or someone blood related to Silas – from reading it. Severus tried to get him to say who he was writing to, but Silas honestly told him he didn’t know. Probably someone older, but they had to have been in Ravenclaw because the journal showed up out of nowhere. After promising his brother that he’d tell him if anything strange showed up in the journal, Severus dropped the subject.

Still confused as to who the person was, after 45 minutes, he threw the journal back into his trunk and went looking for his godmother.

After what felt like a long wait in the waiting room – Silas amused himself by looking at all the backfired spells that happened to people – they were called into a separate room where a mediwitch that Silas didn’t recognize was waiting, reading.

"Hello, Silas," the mediwitch said after greeting Aunt Cissy. "What seems to be the problem here?"

"Bad luck," Silas said, sitting down in the chair that the healer indicated.

"Several people have tested him for curses, but none were found."

"I get hurt everyday," Silas continued. The healer nodded and then scanned him for several minutes, and seemed to get confused at each spell she did.

"There seems to be nothing wrong, but . . ." she did one more spell. "There is an energy that is familiar around him. I believe that you have a case of a Bad Day." Silas looked at her with confusion before looking at his godmother.

"It’s been a very long day, then," Silas commented. "I’ve had bad luck for months, now."

"It is rare, but it’s a simple correction. Have you heard the phrase, ‘I should have stayed in bed?’" Silas nodded. "Well, that’s the solution, in this case. You need to stay in bed for twenty four hours; no potions, no contact with anyone . . . and especially not getting out of bed. Getting up to go to the bathroom is the only thing that would be allowed. You may keep food and water next to your bed, but sleeping for most the time is necessary."

"Sleep for 24 hours?"

"Yes, without any sleep aid."

After writing down what Silas was supposed to do, Narcissa and Silas were rushed out of the room. When they got back to Malfoy Manor, Draco was waiting for them in the front hall.

"What’s wrong?" he asked.

"I have to take a 24 hour nap," Silas answered.

"And you called me a baby," Draco said, smiling, then stopped. "Why?" Silas shrugged.

"Something about a bad day."

"Right," Draco said sarcastically. "That makes sense."

"Let’s get you to bed, Silas," Aunt Cissy said. "The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you can get up."

"Okay," Silas said. He knew he needed to, but he really didn’t want to spend so long in bed.

– — - - - -

Harry woke in a dimly lit room. Remembering he was supposed to stay in bed for 24 hours, he put his head back down, slowly falling back to sleep.

– – – –

He woke to the smell of food next to him. It took him a few minutes to realize he was at Draco’s house. He had been asleep, so of course he wasn’t aware of this new situation immediately. Sitting up, he ignored the food to pull open the curtains on the far side of the room. Immediately, he closed his eyes against the bright sun.

"What am I doing in bed in the middle of the day?" he asked, drawing the curtains. Now too dark to see properly, he stumbled to his bedside table for a match and the candlestick, nearly knocking over the pitcher of water in the process, but he managed to light the single candle. He would have just used his wand to light the entire room like normal, but he thought it might not be best to let his godparents and Severus – if the was there – know he was awake. Instead, he opened the trunk and took out the journal, which was lying on top. Passively, he opened it to see if there was any new message. It had been awhile since he heard anything.

Seeing no new message, he threw the journal aside and continued to look through the trunk for anything new. Not seeing anything, he closed the trunk. Realizing what had happened – he had awoken in the middle of the day for once, in control instead of just riding as the passenger, his eyes widened with possibility. He hadn’t actually met his godparents himself, and now he had the chance! Not even realizing he was in pajamas, he got up and opened the door to his room.

It was dim in the corridor, but he knew where he was. Not bothering to close his door, he took a left and made his way past Draco’s room and to the room that Aunt Cissy usually read in; a room off the library. A library he really wanted to go through, nearly more than talking with his aunt. She would know stuff about Severus that Silas never asked him.

What actually really wanted was to talk to his mother. He had no idea why Silas was so angry at her. She did what she had to do; better to be alive than not. He was so . . . emotional. Emotion . . . that wasn’t something he was particularly familiar with, nor fond of. He knew what it was from reading psychology books from the library back in the muggle world, but he couldn’t understand it. It was just so . . . odd.

Back then, he was the one who spent most of the time awake. He’d let Silas know what was happening, but in a way that he didn’t know there was more than just him. The one time he tried to let him in on the secret, he got too emotional again. Sure, it wasn’t normal that there were two of them, but it wasn’t anything to get frightened about.

Harry thought of it in this way since he learned of magic: there were two of them at one point, but an accident happened and they became one, the other one forgotten about. At first, he thought it was some psychology disorder, but there never was really any proof to that being possible. A magical accident seemed much more logical than a brain problem. Their brains seemed to be working fine . . . Silas was, after all, in the top of his class.

"He’d be even better if he would stop it with the emotion," he muttered, not realizing he was talking out loud immediately. He scrunched his nose, remembering that people don’t normally think aloud, but in their heads. He was used to just talking without making real sound.

Before knocking on Aunt Narcissa’s door, Harry made the decision to keep Silas where he was at the moment. Maybe make him less emotional . . . or at least less . . . scared of everything.

– - - - - - -

Silas woke up again, feeling strange. The room wasn’t dimly lit anymore, like it was before. He sat up, thinking maybe the twenty four hours were over, but he found he didn’t recognize the room. It wasn’t his, that was for sure. In fact, there were lots of beds, all bunks, all in several rows. Like . . . an army room, he thought, though he wasn’t entirely sure. He had only once seen this fake war film from the states that Dudley wanted to see a long time ago.

Maybe I’m dreaming, he thought, jumping at a sudden bark through an open door to his left. Standing up, he crept over to the door and looked outside it. The door swung out, so he looked past the door to see at least ten dogs, most of them laying down. Ten large dogs. Quickly, Silas grabbed for the door and slammed it shut so they couldn’t come into the room.

He didn’t like dogs much.

– - - - – –

Harry knocked on the partially opened door and pushed it all the way open when he heard his godmother tell him to come in.

"Hi, Aunt Cissy," he said, and he watched as she set down the book she was looking through and turn to face him.

"Silas, you should be in bed. You’ll have to start over, now."

"Start what over?" he asked, finding it a little inconvenient that she saw him as Silas, not Harry. He decided he would wait for a bit before he explained things to anybody. He had a feeling they were emotional as Silas was, and that wouldn’t bode well when it came to telling them that Silas was going to be sleeping for awhile.

He suppose he didn’t have to, but it would be nice to be called Harry . . . that was his name, after all.

"Silas, are you sleepwalking again?" his godmother asked, and Harry gave her a confused look as he sat down across from her, looking at what she was reading.

"Why would I be sleep walking?" he asked, looking back up at her. She stood up.

"Perhaps we should wait until Severus is back before you spend an entire twenty four hours in bed," she answered, not really answering the question. "You should go back to sleep. Come on." Aunt Cissy reached out her hand to help Harry up, but Silas shook his head.

"I’m not tired," he said as if it was obvious. And it should have been; it was in the middle of the day.

"You’re probably asleep, Silas," Narcissa started, but Harry interrupted her.

"I’m not asleep, Silas is asleep."

Narcissa looked at Harry for a moment, as if trying to gather what to say.

"And then who are you?" she finally asked, no longer holding out her hand for the boy.

"Harry," he said. "I’m Harry."

"Harry," she said, with slight sound of disbelief in her voice. Harry could tell she didn’t know what was going on, so he knew he would have to explain now. "Do you know why you have to stay in bed for 24 hours?" Harry shook his head. "Because of a bout of bad luck for the past few months. You need to sleep it off."

"Oh. I didn’t know. I was asleep," Harry answered. No wonder Silas was in bed in the middle of the day.

"And Silas was awake?" Narcissa asked, and Harry nodded.

"I usually woke up at night. We share a body," he said.

"For how long?"

"Forever, I think. I don’t know how it happened."

"I think I might," Aunt Cissy said, "but I want to check with Severus, first. Maybe it would be best to go back to bed. Get rid of that bad luck. You have had awful things happen to you, you don’t want them to continue."

"But I haven’t been awake when everyone else is in a long time. I want to talk to you. And Uncle Lucius. And Severus. And everyone! I have questions for you . . ."

"Alright," she consented after a moment. "I suppose sleep could be put off for awhile if you don’t do anything that could harm you." It seemed almost reluctant, but Aunt Cissy finally sat back down. "What are your questions?"

Harry smiled and decided he would deal with Silas later . . . he let go of the test and let him go back to sleep.

– - - - - - — – - - - -

Silas had laid back down on the bed and closed his eyes so he could better decide what he could do, and when he opened them, he was no longer in the room. He was no longer inside. The ground was covered in dirty white, untouched snow and there were shadows everywhere. He couldn’t see the sun, so he assumed it was just below the horizon.

Despite not being in anything but his thin pajamas, he didn’t feel cold, so he stood up and walked out from under the dead tree he was below. The air was sort of dead – the wind wasn’t blowing, yet it wasn’t still. It felt as if the air was slowly surrounding him – whether it was to help him or to choke him, he couldn’t tell. Barefooted, he continued to walk with no direction in mind.

_–_-_-_-_-_--_--

"When is my brother coming back?"

"Tonight," Narcissa said, giving her godson an uneasy look, although Harry didn’t notice. He was thinking of what questions he should ask first.

"How did you and Severus meet?" Harry asked, shifting in his chair so he was more comfortable.

"Through Lucius," she answered with a smile.

"How did you meet Uncle Lucius?" Harry asked immediately. He had so much he needed to learn and he was afraid he would run out of time.

"My sister, actually. She introduced me to him a year after I graduated from Hogwarts."

"You didn’t go to school together?"

"We did, but a couple year apart. We didn’t know each other very well; there were more students then." Harry stored that information along with the other questions that were quickly arising while he continued along his original strain of questions.

"And Severus and Uncle Lucius?"

"They worked together," she said, her smile fading a bit. Narcissa looked down and closed the book she was reading after inserting a marker.

"At Hogwarts?"

"No," she answered, looking up. "Severus wasn’t yet working at the school."

"Where –." Harry was cut off when he heard talking from the corridor. He could hear Uncle Lucius, Draco and Severus talking. Well, mostly Draco, who was explaining what had happened to Silas. Looking from the door to his godmother, he wondered if she was going to tell. He didn’t want them to know just yet. She took the news well enough – she even thought she might know what had happened! – but there was no guarantee that they would, too.

Looking at the door once more just they came to the doorway, he saw Draco stopped short.

"I thought you were in bed, Silas," he said, and Harry shrugged.

"You really should try one more time," Aunt Cissy said to him. "I know it’s hard to stay in bed for so long, but the sooner you do, the sooner your bad luck will be gone. Did you want to eat first?"

Harry looked from the trio in the doorway to his godmother once more, guessing that she wasn’t going to tell them, and shook his head. He supposed he could stay in bed for a day. If Silas was having bad luck, chances were that he would, too. Harry stood up and walked past everyone and left for his room.

- - - - - - - - - – – - - - –

Severus looked at Narcissa expectantly, wondering what was happening. She had sent Draco to find something to do on his own and she had closed the door after he left. Something was happening, and it seemed to be something more than the bad luck Lucius explained to him when he arrived at the manor.

"Something happened and I’m not quite sure how to explain it . . ." she finally said, sighing and combing her fingers through her long, blonde hair once. Severus listened as she explained the events of the past half an hour and the three of them sat in silence for awhile. "I don’t . . . I told him I think I might know what happened, but I really don’t . . . he seems willing to trust me at least. Do you think . . ."

"It would explain the sleepwalking, and why potions have not been working. And his odd behavior during the night."

"Perhaps a medical wizard," Lucius suggested, and Severus nodded slowly. "I would go to St. Mungos and talk to them first before bringing Silas to see them. In case he’s . . . possessed."

Severus stood, not knowing how exactly he was feeling. He felt as if he was dreaming himself . . . and he felt ill. He knew Lucius’ suggestion was sound, but he couldn’t bring himself to floo to St. Mungos without speaking with his little brother himself. Silas had been through so much and now this added to it? Instead of heading downstairs to the floo, Severus let himself into his brother’s bedroom.

"Silas?" he asked. A single candle was lit next to the bed and several items from his trunk were on the floor. He faintly remembered the black book that he spotted and he picked it up, remembering it as the journal Silas asked him to check for curses one day. He didn’t open it, but he held onto it as he sat down on the bed, the occupant watching him with a blank face. Severus couldn’t believe that it was a matter of possession or that the boy was making this up; he had never heard of any case where a spirt possessing a person believed what the child appeared to believe and he knew Silas would never pull a stunt such as this.

Silas – or Harry, as the twelve year old wanted to be called – was still looking at him and Severus decided he would take this slowly. That he wouldn’t bring in some person from St. Mungos like his brother was insane. They tried that before, and they assumed he was sleep walking!

"Why do you call yourself Harry?" he asked and the boy’s face switched to one of blankness to confusion.

"You believe me?" he asked.

"I can’t believe you if you don’t tell me your story," Severus answered. His brother looked down at the journal he was holding and shrugged.

"I am Harry. I was awake most of the time before you came. When Silas decided he wanted the name Silas, it worked because he’s awake most of the time now."

"And who was awake when I took you home?"

"He was," Harry answered, still not looking up. "He got to spend all the time with everyone. I never got to spend time with anyone, even with the Dursleys. It was him who ran away with Mikey, too. I know because I was only sorta asleep, then. I never really got to meet him. I wanted to get to know all of you."

"So you’re sad you never got to meet us and you decided to wake up?"

"Sad?" Harry looked confused again and he actually looked up.

"What you are feeling," Severus elaborated, feeling just as confused. The boy acted like he didn’t know what sad was.

"I . . . don’t know. I wanted to meet you and I woke up during the day so I went to find Aunt Cissy to talk. I have lots of questions . . ."

"And did you talk to Silas with this?" Severus asked, thinking he was beginning to understand. He knew what he was thinking could be possible, as unlikely as it might sound. With magic, nearly anything is possible.

"Yeah. I wanted to him to know the stuff I know, so I told him to read some books. He didn’t write back a lot, though."

Feeling horrible for his little brother – he did believe this was still his brother, just a different part of him – he brushed the boy’s fringe away to see the charm was still covering the lightning shaped scar.

"Harry, how did you feel when you found you were awake during the day?"

"Excited," he said immediately. "Happy, like I almost always am."

"Are you ever sad?" Severus asked? "Are you ever not happy?"

Harry thought about that for a minute.

"I think so. Like when you came in, I wasn’t sure if you would be happy with me, so I wasn’t feeling all happy."

"I see."

"Do you know why we are like this?" Harry asked, looking and sounding like he was so small. Severus sat further on the bed and pulled the boy closer to him in a hug. With just that one action, Severus felt a burst of happiness from the boy as if someone had cast a happiness charm on him. It was something he never felt around Silas.

"I think . . ." Severus started, then wondered if it was a good thing if he were to tell him. He decided yes. He had to. "I think you both might be the same person, just with different feelings. I never remember Silas feeling as happy as you, and you said you’ve never felt sad. I’m not sure how it is possible, but . . . perhaps someone at St. Mungos would know and they could help."

"So . . . you think we’re both the same person?"

"Yes, with different memories and emotions."

"So . . . I don’t understand," Harry said, no longer smiling.

"That’s alright, neither do I, Harry. Let’s go, then, while you’re awake."

"I’m supposed to stay in bed, though."

"We’ll worry about that, later," Severus said. "I think this is more important." Slowly, he helped his brother out of bed, opened the door and put out the candle. Taking his brother’s hand, he led him out of the room and down stairs to the floo carefully, the boy still in his pajamas, as if he was a glass doll. They passed the Malfoys on the way, and Severus heard Draco asked his mother what was wrong. Severus didn’t bother to tell them yet, hoping they would understand why he didn’t follow Lucius’ suggestions. He was going to work through this with his brother, not try to fix him up without telling him what was going on.

He just hoped that whatever was wrong was fixable.