There are things one should go to the grave without ever knowing.

James Potter had gone to his grave without ever knowing that Severus had done so that James and Lily might have a son. Lily had gone to her grave without ever knowing that it was Severus, who had inadvertently set Voldemort on the path to mark her family for death.

Severus would have given a great deal to go to his grave never knowing that the boy could recall, however vaguely, the night his parents were murdered.

Severus closed his eyes against the pain. His own and the boy's. After a moment he reopened them to look down at the shaken child, "Come along, then, Potter." he said, heavily. He should say something to the boy. Something comforting, perhaps. But what could one say?

Potter would not welcome it either. Severus had watched him all week. Although he turned up for classes and meals, although he spoke with his friends, there was a distance there. The boy had retreated into himself. Even Albus had tried to draw the boy out, to no avail.

Severus had seen the boy reject Lupin's overtures. According to Lupin, Potter ignored, fled from, or otherwise rebuffed every attempt to reach out to him. Severus could not see himself succeeding where the wolf failed.

Severus glanced at the pale child who walked beside him, whose jaw was set defiantly and whose hands were clenched into fists. Good. Anger was better than despair.

Severus was furious that the Dementors had dared come so close to them. The Ministry was mad, leaving the Dementors to guard the school after their part in Longbottom's death.

He was also furious at himself. He was well aware that Potter very seldom just did what he was told. He should have spelled the damned chocolate right into the boy's stomach. So, walking through the gate, the child had had no buffer at all between himself and the soul stealing creatures.

When Potter had gotten within twenty paces of the evil things, Severus had heard him whimper and turned towards the child, just in time to catch his head before it hit the turf.

Severus had to call to him several times before the boy came to, the pulse in his throat racing, cold sweat dripping from his hair.

The boy gripped Severus' robes and had begged him to help "Her". Hysterically asserting that Voldemort was going to kill her.

Ah, god, how Severus wished the boy was having flashbacks to when his hand was crushed, or his ribs broken, or getting beaten every day. But no, this had to be the child's very first memory in his life. And it had to be one that Dementors could evoke.

It appeared that Longbottom and Potter had another thing in common.

The child had stared blindly at Severus' face, not recognizing whose robes he clung to. Those green eyes held a desperate appeal, for safety, for protection. Severus peeled the small hands from his robes with his free hand

"Calm down, Potter." Severus whispered at the hysterical child. And then the boy had clung to Severus' hand, as if for dear life.

A few of the choicer epithets that Severus hadn't used in years flashed through his mind, but that was no way to drive back the Dementors.

Severus growled, as he crouched over the boy. He drew a long, disciplined breath, drawing on his tiny store of happiness to produce a Patronus.

Strangely, it seemed his Patronus was bigger and brighter than had been in years. It galloped around the both of them and the Dementors withdrew, keeping their distance now.

Severus would not think of that now. Rather he forced more chocolate on the boy and made damned sure he ate it, this time.

"Are you all right now, Potter?" Severus asked when they were a sufficient distance from the Dementors that he felt he could breathe freely again.

"Yes. Sir." Potter wiped his nose with his sleeve.

Severus shuddered and pulled out a clean handkerchief,"That's disgusting." he remarked, thrusting the handkerchief at him.

Potter skipped away from Severus, ducking as though he expected to be smacked around the ear. A move Severus recognized all too well.

This would be where the boy's reflexes for Quidditch came from.

Severus stopped to turn fully to look at the boy. When Potter had cringed away from him a moment ago, he had been caught in the grip of a Dementor-inspired memory. Now, however, the child was clearly as much in possession of his faculties as he ever was.

"What's wrong with you now, Potter?" Severus snapped.

There it was again, the defiance that, at the moment, Severus was relieved rather than irritated to see. Potter's chin went up, "Nothing, sir." Potter gritted, through clenched teeth. The honorific turned into a curse.

Severus handed the handkerchief to the child, "Wipe your nose." he said briskly.

The boy took it, looking perplexed. He ducked his head to blow his nose, but kept wary eyes on Severus.

"Did you think I was going to strike you?" asked Severus, deciding on the direct approach.

Potter shrugged, and he gave the slightest nod, as if he was reluctant to tell the truth, but also reluctant to lie.

Severus rolled his eyes, "I do believe we discussed this, Potter."

The boy looked like he did in Potions class, when faced with a difficult formula, before Granger translated it for him. Never taking his eyes off Severus, Potter twisted the handkerchief in his hands. He did not look reassured, at all. Rather his eyes seemed to get impossibly huge as his pupils contracted with what could only be fear.

"I believe I told you, I would not raise my hand to you." Severus said, softly, attempting to sound less than intimidating, but not sure if he was managing it.

"No. You didn't." Potter replied, just as quietly, but with a sharp edge to it. His fists tightened around the handkerchief.

"I beg your pardon?" Returned Severus, astonished at Potter's suddenly accusing tone.

Potter took a deep breath, apparently trying to fight down his rage. Oh, this was a Potter Severus was much more accustomed to dealing with, "You said a teacher couldn't." he hissed venomously, "You said it went against school policy. But now...you're my...my guardian." There was a slight hitch in the young Wizards voice as he said this, "You can do anything you want, can't you? If you want to beat the hell out of me, you can. If you want, you can lock me up in-in...your dungeon." Potter stumbled over the phrase, "Without meals. For days," His voice cracked, "There's no one who's going to interfere. Is there?" Spots of color were coming out high on Potter's cheekbones.

"I assure you, Potter, I have no intention of taking up where your relatives left off." Severus said slowly and cautiously, meeting the boy's emotion with calm. This would explain much of the boy's behavior, in the last week, if these were the boy's assumptions, "I suppose I have not made myself clear enough: I will not strike you. Ever. I will not strike you, starve you or lock you in a cupboard." To be perfectly clear, Severus added, "I will not use my wand to harm you, either."

The angry color in Potter's face was replaced by frightened pallor, "Who told you about a cupboard?" he whispered.

"You did." Severus said evenly, "Don't worry if you can't recall it, you were under the influence of my diagnostic potion." He glanced down at his watch, "I think this conversation should be reserved for a later time," He looked back at the child, "But rest assured, we will continue it. Today."

Potter stared at Severus, biting his lip.

They were going to be late, "Come along, I don't wish to keep Madam Vitrea waiting." Severus told the boy. Honestly, why he had to make everything an ordeal was beyond Severus.

A few people were out in the street doing their shopping, but mostly they were inside, out of the weather. Madam Vitrea's shop was in the middle of the row of shops on the high street. A display of glasses was in the small, neat window. There was a sign in the shape of a pair of bespectacled eyes that gazed down at them, crinkling up pleasantly as they drew close. The boy was apparently impressed by it, since he stared long enough. One of the eyes winked, impudently.

The bell hung on the door jingled cheerfully as they walked in, "Severus? Is that you?" called a woman's voice from a back room.

"Yes, Iris. My apologies for our tardiness." Severus replied.

"It's fine, it's fine." replied the woman, dismissively, coming out. She was a comfortably plump witch, somewhat older than Severus. Her grey streaked, black hair was decorously braided and pinned to the top of her head. Her own eyeglasses were gold rimmed (real gold, reinforced with a magical charm so they weren't forever bending, Severus knew) with precious stones in the corners. She dressed in robes of green and gold

She'd been the oculist in Hogsmeade since Severus had started teaching. He'd often brought one or another of his Sytherins to see her, when their parents requested him to-often there was not enough time during summer holidays and sometimes they broke their glasses while at school.

"This must be young Mr. Potter." Iris said kindly, to the boy who gave her a nervous nod and smile. Severus wished the boy would take his hands out of his pockets, but restrained himself from saying anything for now.

One of the things Severus liked about Iris was that she was never impressed by the status (or lack thereof) of children or a child's family in the Wizarding World. She bustled over to Potter with nary a glance at his scar, "I'm Madam Vitrea, the Oculist. Have you ever had your eyes checked by one?"

Potter shook his head, "N-no Madam. Just an optician."

"Quite all right. Take off your cloak and come and have a seat there, dear." she waved at the exam chair, over which hung a grey metal apparatus opposite an eye chart, "Not much difference, at all."

Potter took off his cloak, hanging it on the cloak hook, and crossed the room to sit down nervously.

"Let me see the glasses you have, Mr. Potter." Iris said, plucking them off his face and holding them up to the light.

She peered up at them interestedly, "Oh, yes. You've been adjusting these for a while. Nearly worn out, and they're made of plastic as well. Won't hold up under any more spells, I daresay. I suppose that's what the masking tape is about, is it?" She said briskly.

The boy bit his lip and the color was back in his cheeks. Severus thought his eyes looked a little too bright.

It came to Severus like a thunderclap, the memory of standing with his mother, as she paid for a set of second hand robes for him. The feeling of mortification. How he had muttered to the shop girl about needing them for Herbology, so he wouldn't get his (nonexistent) good ones dirty.

"Ah, well, his proper pair were broken at Quidditch last week. The boy took a header off his broom and he's been wearing his spare pair, since." Severus lied smoothly, "They were Muggle made, you know. Sometimes the repairing charms just don't work well on some of their newer materials."

Potter's mouth dropped open and he stared at Severus, as if he'd never seen him before.

"Yes, of course. Plastics. " Iris sniffed disdainfully, although she gave Severus a significant look. She turned with a smile for the boy, "We'll get you some with a nice self-repairing charm then, shall we?"

"Yes, please." the child said enthusiastically, as though Iris had just offered him a brand new broomstick.

"You'd best make a spare pair, as well." Said Severus, "Given that those are worn out."

"Naturally," replied Iris, as she adjusted something in the grey aparratus before pulling it down, eye level to the child, "Now just look through here." she told the boy, indicating the eyepiece,. "Do you see the writing?"

"Uh, no." said Potter, doing as she said.

"Tell me when you can." she fiddled with some knobs on the grey metal.

"Now." said the boy.

Iris smiled, she waved her wand and the curtains closed over the windows, "Now I'm going to look inside your eye for a moment. It will feel very odd, but it shouldn't hurt. I'm going to shine a light in your eye" she pointed her wand at Potter, muttering an incantation.

"Oh!" Potter jerked back, for just a second, away from Iris' instrument.

Severus got a look at the child's eyes, without his spectacles, with huge pupils in the dim light. He looked very young and curiously vulnerable. The sight gave Severus a strange tightness in his chest.

"It's all right, dear. I told you it felt odd." said Iris kindly, "Just come back to where I can see them."

"What are you looking for?" Potter asked, nervously.

Iris peered through the instrument, back at Potter's eyes as she said, "Well, at the moment, I'm looking at the structures inside your eyes. And then I'm going to measure your eye and your cornea. And then we'll see what strength of glass you need." Iris, replied, a little absently, pointing her wand at her own glasses, magnifying her vision.

"Why do Wizards even need glasses?" asked Potter, a little irritably, Severus thought, "Why doesn't my magic just fix my eyes?"

"Because, as far as your magic is concerned, there's nothing wrong with your eyes. It's merely a variation in the shape of your eyes or, in your case, in the shape of your cornea." Iris explained patiently, "There are spells, of course to fix them, but we can't perform them on children while they're growing. And it's rather expensive, honestly. It doesn't work for everyone, either." She stopped peering through the instrument and fiddled with a different knob. " All right, tell me when the writing is clear and then read from the top."

After a few second, Potter said, "Now." then read out a series of letters.

Iris humfed to herself, "Do your old glasses give you headaches?" she asked, sharply.

"Umm, I guess." replied Potter, shrugging.

"I'll give you some temporary glasses, right now." Iris said, She exchanged a dark look with Severus. Clearly she had recognized the Quidditch story for what it was.

"You're magic has been working overtime to adjust those. And then, it could only adjust them so far without breaking them." Iris explained. She vanished the offending frames with a little flick of her wand.

"Why can't I just transfigure some to the right strength?" asked Potter.

"Because lenses are made to bend light. If you make them with magic, they don't last. Crystal is so much more durable."

"Crystal?" asked the boy. Severus wished he'd be half that inquisitive in class. On the other hand, perhaps one Granger was enough.

"Mm, we use rock crystal, usually quartz. Muggles used it too, before glass became so much more inexpensive." Iris told the boy. She paused for breath, warming to her subject, "Light is one of those odd things that act the same for Wizards as for Muggles. If you talk to Professor McGonagall, she'll explain it far better than myself. Wizards invented crystal prisms and from there crystal lenses, but only because it's so much easier to shape the crystal with magic. Muggle and Wizards worked together in the early days of optics. The Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was fairly new, you see. Not everyone abided by it. You're Muggle raised?"

Potter nodded, carefully.

"You've heard of lasers?" Iris continued to speak while went to her sideboard where she kept a series of glass lenses in a boxe. She glanced at the little card where Potter's prescription was recorded magically and pulled out lenses of the correct strength.

"Yes."

Iris spelled a quick set of frames onto the lenses, "They're Muggle inventions that work almost like magic, it's really fascinating. They can produce effects that look just like magic."

"My cousin has a CD player-it's got a little light inside of it that reads the music somehow." Potter told her, thoughtfully.

Iris beamed, "Just so." she replied.

She handed the pair to the boy, "These will do, until I can make you proper ones. These are just glass and wire." she said, standing.

"Let's go find you a pair of frames you like." She said as she flicked her wand and the curtains slowly opened. The glass of the windows was a smoky grey that slowly lightened to clear to give one's eyes the chance to adjust to daylight again.

"Which ones do you like?" asked Iris,beckoning the child over and indicating the wall where the sample frames were kept. There were, at least, a hundred different types.

The child had no business looking as if Father Christmas had appeared with a full bag goodies, thought Severus.

Potter also tried to stay down at the inexpensive end, Severus noticed.

"Severus?" asked Iris quietly, coming over to him while the child was examining himself in the mirror wearing a pair of (in all honesty) unbecoming dark frames, not unlike his old ones, "Not meaning to be crass here, but what is the boy's budget?"

Severus wrote a number down on a spare bit of parchment and handed it to her. It was not unheard of for the Headmaster (or Severus himself) to pay for glasses for students who were too poor to afford their own.

Iris raised an eyebrow, but ever the professional, asked no questions, "If I might make a suggestion, dear?" she said going back to the boy, "I think with your face, you might be better off with these." She plucked a pair of gold wire frames from the other end of the display. "Can't go wrong with gold." she said cheerfully.

"Oh, these are brilliant!" exclaimed the child out loud. They were, indeed much more flattering than the last pair. Then his face fell a little and he sighed, rather wistfully. Potter glanced at Severus, before he asked, quietly, "How much would these cost?"

"For these frames, ten galleons and for each charm another galleon." Iris said gently, " But it's all within the budget Professor Snape named."

Iris went to the desk, listing the charms she could put on the glasses. "Self-repairing is a must, in someone your age. Since you play Quidditch, we'll put on an impervious, as well. And a self tinting charm? For bright days?"

Potter looked as though he might object, so Severus cut in, before he could start, "Those are all fine. And whatever else you think reasonable, in a wizard Mr. Potter's age."

"I can have these made up this afternoon. Can you bring Mr. Potter back this afternoon, or will it be Monday? Those temporary ones should last that long."

Severus glanced at the boy, "We have some errands to run in the village, we'll pick them up on our way back."

Iris smiled, "Of course, Severus. It'll be about two hours."

"Come along, Potter." Severus handed the boy his cloak, not wanting to give him time to panic about money.

Severus glanced at his watch, "We'll get a meal at the Three Broomsticks." He pronounced.

Potter nodded, hurrying to keep up.

Neither one said anything while they walked. Severus was thinking through the conversation he knew he had to have with the boy.

They entered the busy pub, and Severus headed straight to the back, glaring at anyone who tried to come close enough to speak to the boy. He had no interest in allowing Potter to speak to any of his adoring fans.

The boy kept close behind Severus, as if he had the same goal in mind. When they sat down at the table, he looked around interestedly, but he didn't speak or meet Severus' eyes.

Rosmerta came to take their order, in the interest of simplicity, Severus ordered for both of them and the boy didn't object.

"Did you bring your potion?" Severus asked.

The child nodded, pulling it out of his pocket. He unscrewed it and drank it with a grimace.

Again, Severus was grateful that formulation had anti-anxiety properties. To be safe, Severus cast a muffliato.

"It appears you have some...concerns, about our arrangement." Severus said quietly.

Potter looked at Severus and then looked away, again. "I'm fine." he gritted.

"Potter," sighed Severus, "You are a terrible liar." He raised one eyebrow at the boy.

"All right, then," the boy growled, "Why you?"

Rosmerta brought over their order before Severus answered, "Because I was the only one who could, at the time." he replied evenly, "And do it quietly." he paused, "I imagine we'll be able to change it before the school year is out. Since you never go home for holidays, nobody beyond a select few need know."

Potter ate for a few minutes, apparently thinking, "So...why do you care if my glasses are broken and my robes are in a state?" he didn't look up from his plate, "Nobody will blame you."

"I do not 'care', Potter." replied Severus, glad that he'd ordered a lager. He really wanted a firewhiskey, but that wouldn't look good while sitting with a student, "I have never much cared for what other people think of me." He overlooked the quiet snort from the boy, "This is a matter of duty. At the moment, I am your guardian and it is my duty to see that your needs are met. Nothing more."

"But...those glasses...they're expensive. I could have gotten something else...and I don't need two pairs..." Potter said quietly.

Severus put his knife and fork down. Mrs. Evan's favorite phrase coming back to him again (he'd almost forgotten where it had come from), "Potter, you are enough to make a saint swear." he said in exasperation, "The money is not an issue, and I will not have someone half blind creating a hazard in my laboratory. And an extra pair is only prudent for someone who falls from brooms as often as yourself."

"Oh." Potter had almost finished inhaling his food. Severus might have been tempted to chide the boy on wolfing it down, if he didn't realize it was a side effect of the potion.

Severus applied himself to his own food again.

"Erm, we don't have to get robes today." Potter said after a moment, of looking at the table "If you have other things to do."

Severus waved his hand dismissively, "Not to worry, Potter. My day is clear until this evening. If you are still hungry, I believe Madam Rosmerta has some treacle tart available. She generally does on a Saturday."

Potter looked at him with the same almost dumbfounded expression he'd had in the Oculist's, "Why are you being so nice?" the child asked suspiciously, as if he couldn't stop himself.

In truth, he may not have been able to. Severus had changed the formula to increase the anti anxiety properties; that tended to loosen the tongue.

Severus took a drink before answering cooly, "This is not 'nice', this is 'responsible'. Clearly you are unaccustomed to seeing such behavior in the adults around you."

Involuntarily, Severus flashed on the sight of Neville Longbottom's eyes, open and staring in death. He felt cold inside as he realized that the statement, unavoidably, must include himself.