The fresh air was delicious to his senses. He was free! At times, he felt like dancing, but he knew it would be extremely odd for a dog to do so. At every town, he’d stop and beg for scraps, or steal food from vendors or loading docks. All in all, he once had again a deep satisfaction in life. Or would have, if not for one thing, well, two: he wasn’t quite free, and…Harry. Harry must be at least thirteen now, if he had performed his calculations correctly. How he loved that boy! The little quirk on his face that signified a smile, the way his eyes lit up…and he had missed the growing up process. He would make up for that, he resolved, as soon as he was free. 

He had no idea where to start. After all, it wasn’t as if Peter would willingly give himself up, nor was there concrete evidence that Sirius wasn’t the Secret Keeper, unless Lily actually wrote it down, as she had threatened to do. Maybe… 

He was closer to Hogsmeade than Diagon Alley. He could probably use the Floo at Hog’s Head. After all, Aberforth was the only one who stood up for him, according to the gossip mill.  He ran by Lake Ness, and past forests. He ran into cities, where Muggles either ignored him, or tried to kick him. Some were nice, granted, but the vast majority weren’t. Perhaps that explained Voldemort’s disdain for the Muggle population. In any case, it didn’t matter to him. If Voldemort was out to kill his friends, well, he had something coming to him.

By the third day, he had made it to Hogsmeade. A familiar smell brought back a sense of nostalgia, this having been his first home. He sat back on his heels for several moments, still, recalling the past. The first day of his Hogsmeade visit with James and Remus. Peter had been ill that day, come down with some sort of flu or another. He banished Peter from his mind. No point in thinking about him, really. Then there was the day they had bought various instruments with which they had planned to prank the student populace. Those were the days. If only they had lasted longer. No allegiances to the Light, or to the Dark. No judgmental fools randomly tossing innocents into hell. But even then, at the back of his mind, he knew his younger days weren’t so empty of such nonsense. A man could dream, couldn’t he? 

The smells of Hog’s Head quickly jolted him back to reality. He wheeled to the back of the inn, where the back entrance was. This place was as rickety as a 300 year old man with rheumatism and arthritis. He really had to speak to Aberforth about re-applying the charms, or replacing the place. On several occasions, the roof had threatened to smash his head. The old man had always laughed him off, saying the building was playing tricks with him. As if a building could, really. Sirius sometimes wondered if Aberforth was as batty as his brother. He certainly seemed like it. On the plus side, he was as brilliant as his brother, though he rarely showed any signs of being so. Nope, Aberforth hated the limelight – all the better for one Sirius Black. 

Sirius opened the first door, and transformed back into his human shape. He quickly cast a Scourgify on himself (James would have a field day with that!), and knocked on the second door. While he waited, he shifted from one foot to another, wondering what Dumbledore the Younger would say to him. He didn’t wait long. 

“Sirius Black?” Disbelieving eyes stared at him, and before Sirius could react, big long arms had engulfed him into a hug. “Lad! How have you been?” 

“I’r ter ye soon as ye ger-off of mr!” 

“Sorry, lad, didn’t mean to squeeze you so hard. Hagrid’s been rubbing off on me,” said old Aberforth. “How in Merlin’s name did you get out of Azkaban?” 

“A few tricks here and there,” said Sirius, blushing a bit. “Tell me everything. I’ve missed…twelve years of my life!” 

“That you did, that you did…” Aberforth paused, and thought. “Voldemort’s come back, twice so far, unless I’ve missed something. I still dislike my brother, Snape’s brewed Wolfsbane, and gotten some hefty recognition for it. 1500 Galleons, or something like that. Told me to redecorate the place with some of that. I asked him whatever for? Place is as good as new.” 

Aberforth laughed, missing Sirius’s wince. So Snape had the same idea as him? What a dismal day. Thank goodness he hadn’t told Aberforth. “Well, what about Harry?”

“Harry?” Aberforth’s eyebrows knit together. “Oh, you mean the Potter boy. He’s the one who’s been giving Voldemort what he’s worth lately. Staying with his relatives, I think. Had some kind of fuss over him the last week or so. He should be up in Hogwarts now.” 

“Fuss? No, wait, I’ll find out myself,” said Sirius. “But what’s he like? Is he like James?”   

“I wouldn’t know, lad. He hasn’t come in here,” said Aberforth. “But Hagrid liked him. Said he was a good one, a little shy and quiet, but good, nonetheless.” 

“He’s not a goody two-shoes, is he?” Sirius groaned. “I couldn’t bear it if he was. Please tell me he’s not.” 

“He flew a flying car to Hogwarts last year,” said Aberforth. “So I imagine not.”

“Bloody hell! A flying car?!? I didn’t have my bike ‘til I graduated!” 

“And lucky you did, or my brother would have tossed you out on your ear,” said Aberforth. “Now, lad, where are you staying?” 

“I don’t know yet,” replied Sirius, a bit bashfully. “I was just going to go to the Shrieking Shack –” 

“And what, starve yourself there?” muttered Aberforth. “Stay here. No one comes in here anyways. You can help me with the dishes.” 

“Why don’t you just use magic?” asked Sirius. “So much easier that way.” 

“Because…” Aberforth looked around. “Because the building doesn’t like it.” 

“The building?”

“Lad, believe me. If I could wash the dishes with magic, I would have done so already. As it is, there are approximately 10 piles in the kitchen waiting for you. Besides, you wouldn’t have a job if you could just magically clean them,” said Aberforth, with a twinkle in his eye. “But start tomorrow morning. You look like you could get a good rest right now. I’ll get you some new clothes.” 

“I’m fine –” 

“No, and that’s final. Now go to bed. Up these stairs, and last door on your right. Now, good night.” 

“Bugger.” 

“I heard that, young man,” said Aberforth. “Now, go.” 

“I’m going, I’m going.” Sirius trudged up the stairs. What nonsense. There were only doors on the right side of the hallway. The left side was just a wall. And why did he have to go to bed now? It was barely noon. Not that he didn’t welcome the rest. Just…he hated being treated like a five year old.

Reaching the door, he cautiously opened it. Like an old man, he toddled in, pausing to close the door behind him. He stiffened. He remembered this room. When his parents had first thrown him out, he had stayed here for his first few weeks after school had ended, hence his relationship with Aberforth. Nothing had changed, really. Same dusty old table in the corner, where he had done his homework. Same dent in the wall where he had thrown his Hogwarts: A History in a fit, when he couldn’t do anymore Potions. Thankfully not the same bedding, or carpeting. Then he noticed something on the bed. Clothes? 

He unfolded them, gingerly. He hadn’t touched any clothes since he had gone into that hellhole. The ones he wore now weren’t fit to be called clothes. Rags, more like. He sniffled. How could someone care for him so much? And they were the right size too. Soon, he found himself on his knees, his face in his new clothes. He cried, cried for the ones he lost. Cried for the injustice in this world, cried for all the years he had lost. And last of all, he cried for undeserved love, love that he thought he never would have again. 

********

In Hogwarts, his boyhood enemy sat by his best friend’s son in shock. All his misconceptions were shattered, and Severus Snape found himself gazing at Harry Potter as if for the first time. It would be his fault if those bright green eyes were never to open again. Although, it wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough guilt already. For throwing the boy’s mother out, then inadvertently killing her…another thrown on him would hardly matter at this point. Would Fate never cease to point her finger at him? 

“Severus Snape! Either you move out of the way, or you lend me a hand! Stop being a useless lump!” 

“Useless lump, Madam? Far from that,” replied Severus, insulted. “But I shall assist you.” 

“I need a Blood Replenishing Potion now. Top shelf, right corner,” ordered Madam Pomphrey. “Now!” 

Severus quickly glided into the Infirmary’s stockroom. There it was. He reached for it. Looking at it, he cursed. “How long have you kept these potions, Madam Pomphrey?” 

“They should be all right, Severus. Why?” 

“Because they’ve expired. Lost their potency,” Severus bluntly said. “I’ll need to brew some more.” 

“Use my lab, then. Much faster than running down to the dungeons,” said Madam Pomphrey. “Could you also grab me the Skele-gro? I need it pronto.” 

Severus grabbed all of the necessary potions, knowing that if he didn’t, he would have to eventually. He thrust them at her. “Here.” 

He turned to enter into her lab. “Severus, thank you.” 

“For what?” he muttered, but it fell upon deaf ears. Madam Pomphrey had already turned back to Harry, mending him as best she could. He quickly retrieved all the ingredients, and began to make the potion. Of course, he made it in record time. Quickly, he bottled enough for Madam Pomphrey’s stockroom, and one for Potter. He rushed out. “Madam, here.” 

“Thank you,” she said absentmindedly, and spelled the potion into his stomach. Immediately, his colour began to change. “He won’t be paralyzed, thanks to your quick thinking, Severus. And he’ll be as good as he was before.” 

She frowned. Severus, noticing this, asked, “What’s wrong?” 

“Well, he’s underweight and malnourished, for one. Which can be expected, knowing where he came from,” she laughed bitterly. “But…there’s something odd going on. The bone structure’s different from when I last saw him.” 

“He’s growing, Madam,” said Severus. “It’s only normal.” 

“No, Severus,” replied Madam Pomphrey. “His entire framework is different. Can’t you see? Even his hair is different.”

“Oh, Merlin,” breathed Severus. “What’s going on?” 

“I’ll get to the bottom of this, don’t you worry,” said Madam Pomphrey. “Just let me call up his diagnostics…” 

She turned around, and Severus did the same. They were engrossed in his file, and Severus shook his head. “How could we not have seen this?” 

“I was never able to do a full check-up until now, Severus. Though he should’ve gotten a first-year check-up before he came in. All students have to do one with their family Healer…”

“And he didn’t have one,” said Severus. “Oh, God.” 

Madam Pomphrey turned around, and paled. “Severus, do you see what I see?” 

Severus turned. “What in the name of Merlin? He was in no condition to go anywhere!” 

“And if he had woken up, we would’ve felt it,” said Madam Pomphrey grimly. “He must still be here.” 

“How on earth can Potter disappear even when he’s in a coma?” said Severus. “I told you it was ingrained in him!” 

“Calm down, Severus,” said Madam Pomphrey, and then promptly fainted. 

“Calm down, indeed,” mocked Severus. “Women and their hysterics.” 

He lifted her on to a nearby bed. “A series of events that cannot ever coincide for my benefit. To put in the words of that meddling old coot, what rotten luck!” 

“Homenum Reveleo!” Severus casted. It revealed nothing. All he saw still was Madam Pomphrey. Where could that dratted boy be? He walked over to the bed where the boy was last seen. The blankets looked flat, but to be sure, he prodded the bed. It was true. Potter was gone. 

********

“You must give Harry to me.” 

“No, me. I grew up with his father. I can raise him best.” 

“Desist with this pointless argument,” growled an unwelcome voice at the door of Albus Dumbledore’s office. “Can’t you see Albus is not even listening to you at present? Besides, neither of you can have him until we find him.” 

“You lost him?” Minerva and Lupin turned and stared at him. Even his father looked at him in surprise. 

“Oh my,” squeaked Filius. “What have you done, Severus?” 

“I have done nothing, thank you,” said Severus. “Potter disappeared on us.” 

“Us?” asked Minerva. “Where’s Poppy?” 

“She fainted. After Potter’s disappearance,” said Severus. “Your assistance is not required in looking for the boy, if you prefer to argue.” 

Severus walked out of the room. He knew they would be up to something useless or another. As for Minerva, well, after his divorce with Lily, the two of them hadn’t gotten along.

“Wait for me, Severus!” said Filius. “Tell me what happened.” 

“Yes, pray tell, Severus,” said Lupin with a feral smile. “What have you done with Harry?” 

“Done to him?” mocked Severus. “Besides patching him up? Nothing. Now, kindly cease pointing fingers. Your Golden Boy needs to be found, and it is likely if we do not start looking now, we will lose him. He is in need of another Blood Replenisher in fifteen minutes.” 

They all walked down to the Infirmary. Albus stepped in front of him, and said, “Homenum Reveleo!” 

“I already tried that, Albus,” said Severus dryly. “I’ve even poked and prodded at his bed.” 

“Well, my boy, it never hurts to try,” his father was turning back to normal, thank God. “Accio Harry!” 

“You can’t summon a living being!” cried Severus. “You know that.” 

“Hmmm…it worked for you,” said Albus, then laughed at his shocked expression. “It was a joke, my boy.” 

Remus had taken to poking the bed. “You’re right, Severus, he’s not here.” 

“I told you,” snarled Severus. “Why does no one ever take me at my word?” 

“Because we like to verify things for ourselves,” said Albus. “Have you looked under the bed?” 

“Why would he be under the bed?” asked Remus, and then looked. He wasn’t there, obviously. Severus, this time, said nothing. Instead, he rolled his eyes. “Are we ready to begin this search seriously?” 

Minerva was looking at Remus strangely. She walked over to him, and whispered. Remus, in turn, frowned. “We lost that old thing ages ago. How did you know about it, anyways?” 

“I know everything, Remus,” said Minerva. “Are you sure…?” 

“Wonderful,” snarled Severus. “Secrets.”

“No, no, my dear boy,” said Albus. “I know what they’re whispering about.” 

“Of course, leave me in the dark.” 

“Filius doesn’t know, either,” reminded Albus. “Do you, Filius?” 

“Of course I do!” said the short man, indignantly. “I caught them using it quite a few times. It was quite ingenious, if I do say so myself.” 

“See?” said Severus self-righteously. 

“Ah, but, my dear boy, you have it in your possession right now,” said Albus. “In fact, you confiscated it off the Weasley twins at the end of the year.” 

“That disgusting, insulting piece of rubbish?” roared Severus. “What in Merlin’s name do you want that for?” 

“The Marauder’s Map, am I not correct?” At Remus’s nod, Albus continued. “It keeps track of everyone in the castle.”

“Lovely,” grumbled Severus. “No wonder you always found me.”

Remus shrugged. “It wasn’t my idea.” 

Severus scoffed. “As if Black and Pettigrew were intelligent enough to create something like that.” 

“Severus, don’t you have something to get?” asked Filius. “You really should, you know. The poor boy could be bleeding out right now.” 

Severus left, muttering nasty words under his breath. Who were they to talk? He reached his office quickly, using all the shortcuts at his disposal. Entering his office, and he walked to the “Confiscated” Shelf. After rummaging, he quickly found the piece of parchment. He returned to the Infirmary, where he shoved it at Remus. “Here.” 

Remus tapped it with his wand, and said, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” 

All of them crowded around the Map, astonished. “I see all of us, but no Harry. Are you sure this works, Remus?”

 “Of course it works,” said Remus indignantly. “But that is strange. Where could Harry have gone?”

“Maybe you should turn around then,” said a familiar voice, but then, not so familiar. 

“Harry?!?”

“Potter?” This time, it was Severus’s turn to faint. And faint he did.