Harry Potter was no savior, Severus growled to himself. He scowled down at the first year that had decided it was perfectly fine for him to crumble himself up into a ball at his Professor's feet in the middle of the night. The child was stupid, or blind with sickness, either way, he shouldn't have been out past curfew, and didn't Pompey say the boy was well? Severus sighed deeply, and the child looked up at him, eyes wide in unbridled horror. Honestly, it was as if the boy had no desire to hide anything he felt.

 Harry Potter wasn’t James Potter. James Potter would have never looked at him with such despair. James Potter would have glared back, eyes blazing with hate, wand out, and a spell on the tip of his tongue. This Potter, this savior, this child, laid below him, his eyes wide with fear, could barely save himself. Harry Potter could barely protect himself.

 Severus held out a hand slowly. He had suddenly come to a decision that would most likely make James Potter roll in his grave with utter disgust.

 The boy at his feet was different. He was a new Potter, entirely.

 He was a Potter that would grow under his supervision, in the exact way Severus wanted. How easy would it be, he mused, to cultivate the child? He was young, naive, and barely aware to the world around him. Severus wasn't sure how long it would have taken the boy to find out his future by himself. If, perhaps, Severus managed to teach the child, and nudge him in the right direction then this child was going to have the small amount of a chance to do what he wanted. Dark or light, prophecy or not, the boy needed to grow, but not into a soldier. He needed to grow into someone that could hold his own against others, that didn't need to rely so much on the opinions of others. Severus Snape was going to be the one that taught the boy, but while Dumbledore used smiles, sickly sweet candies, and twinkling eyes to get what he wanted, Severus had another method. The boy was going to only trust him, and treat everyone else with wary, and cynical expressions. He wasn’t going to run in headstrong, wand blazing. Oh, no. The child was going be taught things no one dared to talk about. He did have seven years with the boy why not make them interesting?

 Harry Potter stared at his hand as if he didn’t understand the purpose of the body part.

 “Stop sitting there, and take it.” Severus growled, annoyed by the boy’s idiocy. He was a little bit amused at the wariness the boy exhibited. It meant that the child didn’t just blindly trust someone, not ever professors. It might have been the rumors and horror stories about him that caused Harry Potter to be wary, but he was sure of the boy's distrust of adults. While the boy obeyed blindly, much to Severus's annoyance, he did so with a careful thoughtful expression that suggested much more than anyone else had assumed.

 Harry Potter did as he was told, grasping onto his Professor’s hand. The brat gasped with surprise when he was helped to his feet. He let go of Snape’s hand as if it was scalding hot to the touch. Obviously, he hadn’t expected that. Severus smirked a moment at the thoughts whirling through his mind.  The boy gave him a look of confusion at his sudden mirth, but Severus ignored it.

 All he had to do was acquire the boy’s trust in him. It wouldn’t do well for him if Potter had other trusted forces influencing him throughout the course of his school career. As far as he thought, it would only take smooth talking to put one Harry Potter into the clutches of the bat of the dungeons, but unlike others, the boy would trust him.

 Severus flinched inwardly, what in the seven hells was he doing? He was being a manipulative bastard just like Dumbledore. Was he any better than the headmaster? He didn't feel any sort of malice in his own intent, but after having lived in the bad intent for so long it was hard to decipher between his motives for some acts.

 “Follow me.” Severus said stiffly, turning away from the child and heading back towards the castle. He hoped the boy was following behind him just as swiftly. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if the younger didn’t know how to follow simple orders. Obedient or not, some idiots always ended up confused.

 Severus felt a tad giddy about the plans for the future, but for now Severus would settle with building the small bridge of trust that would keep Harry Potter pinning to keep himself in good terms with his professor.

 This wasn’t James Potter. They only seemed alike in looks now. This child wasn't sure which way was up unless told, and Severus was about to point him in just the right direction.

 -0-0-0-

 Professor Snape seemed a little odd, and his eyes gleamed dangerously, or at least to Harry they did. What are you thinking, Professor? Harry glanced from Professor Snape’s back to the grass at his feet. There was something dark and terrifying about his Professor. Was he a dark being? Harry sort of assumed that to be obvious. Maybe it was the clothes, or the rumors, but there was something dangerous brewing under that calm.  People said things about Professor Snape, rude, rude things. He had overhead a few Ravenclaw seventh years talking about ‘death eaters’ and how Professor Snape used to be one of them. Harry didn't know what 'death eaters' were, but something about it made him think that it made Professor Snape a very powerful wizard. He wasn’t sure what it was that made him crave his Professor’s approval but repulsed him and intrigued him at the same time.

 He had been listening to everyone. It was a habit of his to hide away, and listen. He learned many things by this, and stayed out of the older children’s way. Harry stared at Professor Snape's back as he walked and wondered if he was lonely. He didn't see many people hanging around him. In Harry's innocent mind he assumed that everyone wanted friends, just like he did, and were just to shy to find some. He thought that maybe he could be Professor Snape's friend.

 He had learned a few things about Professor Snape: He liked smart people. He liked quiet people. He liked obedient people. He liked people who didn't blow up their potions. (He had overheard a few third years’ laughing about someone blowing up a potion. Professor Snape was angry, but everyone else seemed happy, and it ended with someone with blue hair.)

 He wanted Professor Snape to like him. He decided to study, and never ever blow up a potion. He was going to get Professor Snape to approve of him, and then in the end, they would both have a new friend.

 0-0-0-September Seventh-0-0-0

 Professor Snape had escorted him back to the dungeons, sentenced him to detention for the rest of the week, and then sent him on his way to his dorm.

 Later, he had found himself being stared at by another first year. This particular Slytherin didn't mill around with the likes of Draco Malfoy, and Harry had noticed his liking to be alone. Theodore Nott had a very intense stare, one that made drew Harry in yet pushed him away at the same time. They stared at one another, sizing the other up. Harry was confused, this was the first Slytherin that had showed honest interest in him, excluding Draco Malfoy, because he didn't really know what to think about him. The common room felt achingly empty, and only a few students milled around, more interested in better things than Harry Potter who had resigned himself into sitting alone at a table in the corner of the room. No one had been particularly nice to him, and students of other houses seemed curious, but a little afraid of him. He heard the whispers spreading around the castle, 'He killed you-know-who, can we truly have a savior in Slytherin? That's such a dark house. He could become the next you-know-who!"

 Theodore had a very unchanging stare; it was impassive, and schooled carefully, but still radiated intelligence. Harry was lonely. It was a normally a natural feeling to him, but now that he was always surrounded by people, the feeling hurt more. Theodore stood, and walked slowly over to Harry. He was tall, a tad awkward, but still held the pureblood air that many others in Slytherin had, but some didn't even compare to Theodore Nott. He didn't walk cockily, like he thought he owned the place, but more with a sense of wary.

 Theodore Nott sat across from him, his face impassive. "Hello."

 "Hi." Harry whispered. Maybe Theodore Nott wanted to be friends?

 "What do you know about the forbidden forest?" Theodore's eyes took a new light to them, like he had suddenly felt a chill of excitement.