Harry was sitting on the couch downstairs watching the end of a movie with Cathy. Connor was gone for a few hours and Harry was grateful to have his mum all to himself. Once the movie ended, Cathy shut off the telly, and they relaxed on the couch until she broke the silence.

“Are you excited for the upcoming school year?” she asked the ten-year old.

“No, not really,” he admitted.

“Why? Haven’t you made any friends?” the strawberry-blond haired woman asked.

“Yeah, a few but I’ve never seen them outside of school. I’ve asked before if they want to come over after school, but they haven’t been able to. Always claimed they had to get to practice or there was something to do after school,” the boy explained with a shrug.

“Hmm,” Cathy murmured, somewhat sleepily.

“Are you happy with Connor?” Harry asked hesitantly. He really wanted to know if she was truly happy with this man or not but hadn’t worked up the courage to ask until now.

His mum gave one of those dreamy girlish sighs. “Yeah. He’s great you know? Quite the charmer. Has these gorgeous brown eyes and such a great smile…”

Harry tossed a pillow at her. “Eww! I’m ten and I certainly don’t want to hear all that mushy stuff,” the boy complained with a grimace.

Cathy smiled and tossed the pillow back at him. He caught it and grinned before tossing it back at her again. They both laughed as had a small pillow fight with the couch pillows.

“What are you two up to?” A voice called from the door way. Both stopped their fun fight and noticed Nick standing by the door.

“Grandpa!” Harry exclaimed excitedly. He leapt from the couch and ran up to the older man to give him a big hug. Both of his grandparents had been busy lately and Harry hadn’t seen them much.

“Hey Harry. How are you?” he asked, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“Better now that you are here,” Harry replied, grinning happily.

“What on earth were you two up to in here?” Nicholas asked, looking around the disheveled living room.

“We were just having a pillow fight,” Cathy explained and she stood and hugged her father. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good. An old buddy of mine is fixing up his house and I’ve agreed to help him out. We painted his kitchen last weekend,” Nick explained.

“Ah, that was where you were.”

“Did you need me for something?” the older man asked, worried that he wasn’t there when his daughter might have needed him.

“No, no. It was nothing big. I was just called in on Saturday and Connor had to take Harry with him to work,” the blue-eyed woman explained.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. Are you working on this Saturday as well?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so. Are you going to be gone again?” Cathy asked.

“I am. Your mum and I are going to be attending the funeral. It’s a bit of a drive so we are going to leave Friday and stay for the weekend. I would bring Harry with us but this is no place for a young boy. Perhaps Connor can take him again?” Nick suggested.

Harry grimaced, but neither adult saw the expression.

“I’ll ask him once he gets home, which should be any minute now.”

Sure enough, Connor came walking through the front door moments after she said that. She greeted him while Harry went upstairs to his room. Nicholas followed shortly after, to see what his grandson was up to.

“Hey Harry. What are you doing?” the retired military man asked.

“I’m just looking for my book—and here it is,” the boy replied and held up the item.

“So what is it about?” Nick asked curiously. As Harry was explaining, he could hear his mum and Connor heading upstairs to their room.

“Sounds interesting,” the man commented. Nick then excused himself to use the bathroom. Harry was sitting there flipping randomly through the book and paused when he heard raised voices.

“Why can’t you find a babysitter? There’s plenty of time to find someone else to watch the boy on Saturday,” Connor remarked.

“Please? I am just asking you to do this again, for me and for my son,” Cathy pleaded. “You said he behaved himself again and I’m sure he’ll be fine again.”

“It’s not like he is your biological son,” the man muttered but Cathy clearly heard him.

Harry heard that comment and stood up quickly. He left his room and headed downstairs and raced to the backyard, where he slumped against a tree.

Had he stayed, he would have heard the sound of his mum yelling at Connor for saying such a thing. He hadn’t even noticed his grandfather as he rushed down the stairs.

As Harry sat there under the tree, he pondered over Connor’s words. It was true, what the man had said. He wasn’t Cathy’s real son, as much as he wished and hoped for it to be so. A single tear fell from his eye and he furiously wiped it away. He was too old to be crying like a baby anyways and it never helped anything. After a few more moments of silence, he heard the back door open. He remained still in his spot, hoping to be hidden from whoever had ventured outside. Apparently, his grandfather had seen him since it took only a moment for the older man to spot him.

“Connor was wrong in what he said,” Nick stated as he slowly lowered himself on the grass next to his grandson.

Harry remained silent. It was true though, no matter what anyone said.

“Did you know that Connor’s sister died a few years ago?” Nicholas asked softly.

The boy looked up sharply. He hadn’t heard anyone say anything about that. He knew that the man didn’t have any remaining family since none showed up at the wedding.

“Apparently his younger sister was babysitting some children, probably a bit younger than yourself, when something tragic happened. One of the boys had found his father’s gun and was playing with it when she noticed. It accidentally went off when she was trying to take it away from the boy.”

Harry felt horrified. His teachers always taught the students to never touch a gun and he’d be sure to not play around with one after hearing about Connor’s sister.

“I didn’t tell you this to scare you,” his grandfather said. “I told you because at times, I believe Connor resents children for causing the accidental death of his sister.”

It dawned on Harry right there that that could very well be the reason Connor didn’t like him. But he wasn’t the boy who hurt his sister, so why was the man still so mean and resentful?

“You know we all love you, right?” Harry nodded. “It doesn’t matter who you were born as because you are now a part of the McKinney family and you always will be,” Nick said with complete certainty.

“Now, that story does not excuse Connor’s comment earlier. I think he’s been quite busy lately and he might be under stress. I’m sure it will be hard to at times, but give him a chance. It’s not easy, and I know that seeing as I am the father of the woman he is married to, but everyone deserves a chance.”

Harry nodded again. The thing was, he did give Connor a chance. He really did try to get to know the man but every attempt was brushed aside.

“If you ever have any problems, with your mum, Connor, or anyone else, you know you can talk to me right?”

The boy looked into his grandfather’s blue eyes and saw that the man was completely sincere. He nodded and gave the man a hug. Perhaps this was the right time to mention last Saturday and all the other small incidents between him and Connor?

Just as he opened his mouth, the back door opened again.

“Are you both out here?” Cathy called and then spotted them lounging under the tree. “I was just coming to tell you that dinner will be ready in a bit.”

“Okay,” both Harry and Nick replied.

“Come on, let’s get inside. It is getting dark anyways,” Harry’s grandfather commented.

“I’ll be there in just a minute,” the boy said softly.

The older man stared at him for a moment before nodding. He went back inside and left the boy to think.

Harry pulled his legs up to his chest and sat there reflecting over that story. It made sense why Connor didn’t like children, but it wasn’t like he had ever done anything wrong to make the man dislike him. Harry sighed and wished he would have been able to talk a bit further with Nick. It would have helped to talk about Connor, but yet he didn’t want to bother his grandpa with these stupid little things. He could handle being disliked by Connor and occasionally shoved around like on Saturday. The more he thought about it, the more sure it would have been stupid to whine to his grandfather about that. It wasn’t like Connor was really hurting him or anything.

Harry also thought back to earlier when he asked Cathy about whether or not she was happy. She was hardly ever really “girly” but when he asked her that, she got that dreamy expression as she described her husband. She really was happy, which made Harry glad to know. He didn’t want to spoil that and look like some attention-seeking-brat who wanted his adoptive mum all to himself.

It would be nice to talk to someone about all the dilemmas that he faced, but he didn’t know who. If he talked to any of his family, they’d make it a big deal and he certainly didn’t want that. Harry let out another quiet sigh and stood up slowly. Until he found someone else to talk to, he would just keep quiet about it and continue to get along as well as possible with Connor.

Saturday arrived and Harry had to once again to go with Connor for the afternoon. The ride to the man’s office was just as quiet as last week, with neither Harry nor Connor speaking to each other. The boy exited the car, with another book in hand, and followed Connor inside the building. He went to sit in the chair from last week, but was stopped by a firm grip on his wrist. Harry looked up into Connor’s chocolaty brown eyes.

“I got a lot more work done last week after you left,” Connor stated.

“Okay…” Harry trailed off hesitantly, slightly unsure what that meant. Did the man want him to leave already or what?

The grip tightened on his wrist, and he winced. Harry resisted the urge to pull his wrist away from the man. He wasn’t quite sure how the man would react to that so he stayed put.

“Don’t get smart with me boy,” Connor snapped. “If you are too thick to understand what I was implying, then I shall have to spell it out for you. Get lost. Scram. Go wander. Do whatever, but make sure to be back here by four. And don’t be late this time.” Connor emphasized this point by tightening his grip even more so on the boy’s wrist.

“Yes, sir,” Harry muttered and pulled his wrist to his chest once the man finally let go. The boy turned and walked out, carrying the book he brought to read in his arms with him. He wouldn’t have minded sticking around for a while and reading his new book, but apparently Connor wasn’t up for pleasantries today.

Harry wandered once again along the busy Charing Cross Road, entering some stores and skipping over others. Last Saturday, he’d checked out most of the bookstores and today, he decided to skip over those. Instead, he wandered into a clothes store, a small toy store and one that was filled with nick-knacks. He even used the bathroom in the clothes store and decided to change his face again. It always made him feel better when he slipped into his “second face”, as he called it. It always reminded him, that despite his doubts, he was considered part of the McKinney family.

After a while, he began to get bored from wandering shops and decided to read his book for a bit. There weren’t any good places to sit anywhere so he decided to sit on this empty crate in an alley. He recognized this area from when he ran into that strange man last week. He silently hoped to see that man again sometime because he had so many more questions to ask.

Harry pulled out his books on plants and began reading. Strangely enough, he had originally picked out this book from the public library because he remembered that man talking about adding various ingredients to his potions and it made Harry curious to know more. The library didn’t have any books on potions, which confused the boy. He stumbled across this book and he wondered if plants were used in potions. Therefore, Harry checked out the book, and here he was sitting in the alley reading about plants.

After a while, Harry looked up when he saw a shadow standing over him.

“Wha’ ‘r ye doin’ outta ‘ere boy?” a man slurred out. Harry could easily tell that he was drunk with the way he reeked of alcohol.

“Nothing,” Harry replied before standing up. He stepped to the side of the man, about to exit the alley, when the drunken man grabbed his wrist. Harry winced as the guy clutched his sore wrist, which was surely bruised by now.

“Lil’ boys like ye aught not ter be outta ‘ere by yerself,” the man muttered and pulled Harry closer.

Harry kicked at the man and tried to yank his arm away but the man just laughed and slapped him. Harry fell from the force of the blow and hit the pavement. He immediately tried to shuffle away from the creep, but was stopped when the man grabbed his ankle. Using his other foot, he managed to kick the man in the jaw. The drunken man dropped his foot only for a moment, which was not enough time for Harry to get away. The man quickly snatched his foot and pulled him behind a dumpster, blocking the view from the street.

“Let go!” Harry shouted and tried to twist away from the creep. Harry closed his eyes, feeling something strange building within him and suddenly the drunken man wasn’t holding him down anymore.

Harry sat there for a minute, breathing hard and scared to open his eyes. He feared he had done something freaky again and didn’t want to know what he’d done. After his breathing was under control, he cautiously peeked open his eyes. He saw a tall, dark-haired man bending over the drunken one, who appeared to be unconscious. The dark-haired man was holding what appeared to be a stick, which caused Harry to rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing straight. After he put his glasses back on, he noticed that the other man didn’t have a stick anymore in his hand and was now coming his way.

“Are you all right?” The stranger asked. When Harry looked at him, he recognized the man from last Saturday. Harry saw recognition passed through the other man’s eyes too.

“I- I think I’m alright,” the boy replied, clutching his bruised wrist. “What happened to him? Did you hit him or something?”

“Something like that,” the older man replied dismissively. “May I see your wrist?”

Harry tentatively held out his arm and allowed the man to push up his sleeve and examine the wrist. There were several hand shaped bruises, but it was mostly from Connor earlier.

“Was this from just now?”

Harry swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling dry. “Y-yeah,” he answered unconvincingly.

“Really now?” the dark-haired man replied with skepticism. Instead of pushing it further, he pulled a small tube of salve from his pocket and applied it. Harry was surprised at how quickly it worked. The bruises were fading almost instantly, although they could still be seen if one looked hard enough.

“Did you make that?” Harry inquired curiously.

“Yes,” the man replied shortly. “As you can tell, it is used to aid the healing of bruises in addition to reducing swelling and to help heal other small wounds.”

“What is your name?” The man asked suddenly.

“Harry, sir,” the boy replied.

For some reason, his name caused the man to look at his forehead for a moment. Then the man shook his head as if to clear away unwanted thoughts.

“May I know your name, sir?” Harry asked tentatively. He wasn’t sure why the man looked at his head. Maybe he was looking for something? Harry remembered that he did have an oddly shaped scar up there, but he always hid his scars. He mostly wanted to hide the ones that his uncle caused and when he concentrated on making them disappear, all scars did, including the one on his forehead.

“Severus Snape,” the man replied without much thought, still looking a bit lost in thought.

“Where are your parents, Harry?” the man-Mr. Snape- asked.

“My mum’s at work and my-” Harry paused. He couldn’t bring himself to call Connor his dad. “-step-father is working nearby here.” Step-father was the best he could do without directly saying that Connor was related to him.

“You haven’t run off, have you?” Snape asked sharply.

Harry shook his head negatively. “No, sir. He –uh asked me to let him get his work done and just said I could wander for a while.”

The taller man scrutinized the boy. He could tell the boy was lying, but decided against pushing it any further. Perhaps this step-father man was the one who bruised the boy’s wrist? The unconscious imbecile behind him couldn’t have caused the bruising to appear that quickly when he was manhandling the boy. So it must have come from elsewhere. There wasn’t much that he could do for the boy, unfortunately. Wizards were not supposed to meddle in the affairs of muggles. He is lucky the boy hadn’t seen him shoot a spell at the drunken man to get him away from the child.

“Are you going to make it a habit to run into me every Saturday from now on?” Severus ventured.

Harry smiled slightly. He wouldn’t mind bumping into this man every Saturday if it meant that he was able to talk about the fascinating subject of potions with him.

“I don’t know. My mum doesn’t work every Saturday but when she does I usually get sent with my step-father,” Harry stumbled over the last words. He would never get used to calling Connor anything other than his first name. “Are you always out buying ingredients on Saturdays?”

“I am,” Snape replied. “I teach at a school,” filled with useless dunderheads, “and I am constantly in need of more ingredients. There are no classes on the weekends, therefore I purchase ingredients then.”

“What do you teach?”

“Potions, of course,” the dark-eyed man replied.

“Oh,” Harry replied. He didn’t know schools taught potions and said just as much to the man.

“They do, only select schools teach the subject.” Snape explained.

“Where is this school? Can I go to it?” the boy asked curiously. “It sounds really fascinating and I wouldn’t mind learning the subject.”

Severus scrutinized the muggle boy before him. No schools would teach potions except for magical schools and it wasn’t like he was permitted to inform the child that. He probably shouldn’t have ever mentioned the concept of potions to this boy since he is a muggle after all.

He thought for a minute on how to best phrase his answer without mentioning the wizarding world. “You can say that it is an elite, selective school. If you have been accepted, then you will receive a letter during the summer. You have to be eleven; therefore it will be a few years before you could possibly receive this letter.”

Harry scowled. “I am ten, thank-you-very-much,” he replied seriously. He let out a soft laugh at seeing Snape’s eyebrow raise in a disbelieving manner. “What? It’s true!”

“Hm,” Snape grunted as he looked at the boy closer. “You don’t look a day older than nine.”

“I’m just a little short…” Harry protested weakly, but smiled nonetheless. Mr. Snape was kind of funny looking with that disbelieving smirk on his face. “So can I ask you a few questions?”

Snape glanced over at the unconscious man behind him. He wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

“Let’s adjourn to the café across the street for some tea then I shall answer all of your inquiries.” Harry nodded and followed the man across the street. They sat at a table slightly away from others and Snape ordered them both a cup of tea to sip while they talked.

Harry was practically bouncing on his seat as he waited for Mr. Snape to put his tea cup down. Finally the man did so and he jumped right into his questions.

“That bruise potion stuff from earlier, what is it made of? How did you make it? Is it possible for me to make it? How long does it take to make potions? I checked out a book on plants and I was wondering if any of these were used in your potions. The library didn’t have any books on potions so there wasn’t anything else I could find on the subject, other than that plant book I mean. Is the-”

“Stop,” Severus commanded and the boy immediately ceased his blabbering.

“One question at a time, if you will,” the man requested.

Harry placed his book on the table. “There aren’t any books on potions at the library. I found this book on plants and I was wondering if you used plants like these in your potions as well.”

Severus grasped the book and opened it. After flipping through several pages he handed it back to the boy.

“There are several ingredients listed in there that I use for various potions. One common ingredient would be daisy roots. That also happens to be one of the key ingredients in that bruise salve I used on your wrist earlier,” the man explained.

Harry nodded. “Okay, so can you tell me more about that salve? Like how you made it and stuff?”

“And stuff?” Severus grimaced at the boy’s choice of words. “That particular salve is fairly easy to make. As I stated previously, daisy roots are a key ingredient. They need to be diced rather precisely in order for them to be most potent. Another important ingredient for this potion is the ginger root, which is also mentioned in that book of yours. The ginger root has medicinal properties that enabled your bruise to heal rather quickly,” he explained.

“About the ginger root- do you dice that precisely as well in order for it to be most potent?” Harry asked curiously. This entire subject really fascinated him and he wished that he could learn more. There was so much that potions could do and they seemed rather easy to make. It was like cooking after all, wasn’t it?

“This potion requires the ginger root to be ground up, not diced.”

“What exactly is the difference?” the boy inquired. “And does it really affect the potion if you dice an ingredient rather than grind it?”

“It makes all the difference, which apparently some of my students cannot seem to comprehend,” Severus replied with a scowl directed at his incompetent students rather than the boy sitting across from him.

The man took a sip of his tea before continuing. “Dicing is used in order to get the precise sizes necessary for the potion. Grinding is used to extract every possible portion of the root, such as the juices that are an additional part of the ingredient. Some potions require the liquid portion to be added before or after the base ingredient.”

“How do you get liquid out of a root?” Harry asked, unsure how that was possible.

Severus frowned. It was a good question but not easily answered in a way the ten-year-old could understand.

“The easiest way to put it is to think of when you water a plant. The roots absorb the water and the various roots contain certain properties to them. Such as the ginger root, which specifically contains healing properties. The water absorbed in the root sustains the life of the root until you either don’t water it anymore, which causes it to die, or until you use it,” the dark-haired man explained.

“I think I get it. So when you grind it, that will basically separates the liquid from the root?”

“In a sense, yes,” Severus replied. “It is of course more complicated than that, but I will not be able to explain everything to you.”

Harry nodded and finished off his tea. After glancing at his watch, he realized now would be a good time to leave in order to not be late.

Harry stood and picked up his book. “I’ve got to go now. Thank you for answering my questions.” He patted around in his pockets but found nothing in them. He bit his lip as he hesitantly met the dark-eyed gaze.

“I-well, I don’t have any money on me right now,” the boy admitted.

Severus waved it off. “It’s just a cup of tea. I’m hardly going broke over it. Go before you are late.”

Harry smiled at the man. “Thank you. And well thanks for earlier too,” he added, referring to the incident earlier. “Do you think I’ll see you next Saturday?”

“Perhaps,” the man replied. “Do not make a habit of needing to be rescued from drunken men though,” Severus teased slightly.

If anyone asked, he would never admit to being nice or to teasing this child. There was just something about this boy that caught his attention. He knew this boy was intelligent, and had no doubts there. What intrigued him most was the boy’s interest in potions. Harry was a mere muggle, but yet he caught on so easily to concepts that his older students still hadn’t grasped.

“I’ll try, but trouble seems to find me,” the boy added with a grin before dashing off.

Severus shook his head and stood. He left some muggle money on the table before exiting the café. He entered the alley and found the drunken man still unconscious. His spell shouldn’t have been that strong but Severus just shrugged it off and cast a few satisfying hexes on the man. That would surely help the man think next time he went to harm anyone, especially a child. The potions master smirked at his handiwork and Apparated away.