Saturday, July 1st 1995

Harry was awakened up by severe pain in his left shoulder blade. With his eyes still shut tightly, he sat up and rubbed the sore spot. The culprit turned out to be an errant bedspring, which had been poking him in the back all night. The mattress felt thinner than usual. Harry opened his eyes and surveyed his surroundings. He wasn't in his dormitory at Hogwarts. Then without warning, the affairs from the day before suddenly came back to him with startling clarity.

"Why does it always have to be me?" groaned Harry.

The bitterness that had welled up inside him due to the Dursley's scheming had not evaporated in the least. It still hurt to believe the Dursleys loathed him to such a degree that they would scheme something like that, just to get rid of him. The man, Tobias, had also fallen victim to their plotting. Uncle Vernon had told him that Aunt Petunia had lived here during her childhood. Therefore, Harry was sure that she knew this man, and for some unfathomable reason, she despised him. Harry wondered how the working-class man had managed to get under her skin. The adoption papers he had been shown didn't totally convince him of what they had told him. Harry was very aware that his uncle had connections to people in high places, and it would not take much to forge adoption papers.

Harry also wondered if Tobias knew he was a wizard. The man didn't mention anything when he saw Hedwig, which was considered a somewhat atypical pet. Perhaps the Dursleys, despite their revulsion of the subject, had told him about magic. Still, if the hook-nosed man was somehow related to his Potion Master, then he likely already knew about wizards. From what Harry was able to observe, Tobias was definitely Muggle. There was nothing in the flat that he had seen in the Burrow. There were no books about magic, cauldrons, or spells in the house.

He decided to be careful and refrain from mentioning he wasn't exactly normal for the time being. He didn't want to risk that he would be treated here like he had been at the Dursley's house. Harry wasn't going to try to tell the man he wasn't his son. He knew that keeping this knowledge wasn't fair to Tobias. However, Harry preferred not to be homeless or land in an orphanage; the place—thanks to Aunt Petunia stories —really scares him. Harry knew Sirius wanted to take him in, but that was not possible as long as the man was a fugitive. It was too dangerous for him to live with the Weasleys. The Burrow would be a considered target without his presence because he was friends with Ron. Even Dumbledore warned them, as Mrs Weasley had told him in the train station.

Furthermore, Harry always wanted to know how it was like to have a father. At least he could pretend for a while and hope Tobias wouldn't discover the truth too fast. Harry wanted to be treated like somebody's real son. And if the man continued to believe that Harry is his biological child, then he was going to let his dreams come true. He also hoped that his real parents would understand and wouldn't mind his deception too much.

It was a really enticing perspective to live, at least for a little while, a life borrowed from someone else, someone who, in reality, didn't exist. To live as Tobias and Eileen Snape's son. He flinched a little because it sounded like he would pretend to be the Potions Master, but it was impossible. Snape was too old to be their son. Even if Harry wasn't sure of their ages, he was confident that it was unrealistic. The boy knew, of course, that pretending to be someone else was a bad idea; however, it was always his dream to be a normal teenager who had an attentive father. Of course, he also really longed for a mother, but one can't have everything.

After a couple of minutes, Harry went downstairs to the kitchen and noticed that Tobias was nowhere to be seen. Judging from the dirty plates dumped on the table, he'd already left for work. Harry washed the dishes and made tea, foregoing breakfast. When he felt especially nervous or stressed, he would become nauseated, unable to swallow the tiniest morsel. With a cup of tea in his hand, he went back to his room and decided to write a letter to his godfather. He wanted to be sure that Sirius didn't know anything about the alleged adoption.

After the third task, when Harry had been in the hospital wing, his godfather had promised him that they would see each other soon, but first, he had to alert the 'old crowd.' Harry didn't know exactly who those were, but he remembered one name – Arabella Figg. It was the same last name as his neighbour from Little Whinging. He didn't like her very much. In any case, he was sure she wasn't fond of him either. She always had him look at pictures of her cats. She had pretended to be nice only once, and she had given him a stale chocolate cake. Maybe she wanted to poison him because after, he had been up all night, racked with stomach pain.

Harry took out a piece of parchment and quill from his trunk and tried to figure out how to write exactly what he wanted to know.

Dear Padfoot,

I hope that everything is all right with you. There have been many changes here. The Dursleys kicked me out for good. They devised some tale that I'm not related to them. I know that if you and Professor Lupin had known something about this, you would have told me, right? Don't worry, I'm fine. In fact, I'm better than I was when I was there.

Yours,

H.

He almost tied this letter to Hedwig's leg when he changed his mind. He didn't want to worry about his godfather. He was sure that after such a message, Sirius would begin to wonder about his whereabouts

Knowing his impetuous nature, he would probably make a rash decision to emerge from hiding just to see if everything was okay with Harry. Although the teenager did miss him, he didn't want to endanger him. He couldn't be selfish, so he ripped up the letter and tried once more from the beginning.

Dear Padfoot,

I hope that everything is all right and you are safe.

I'd like to ask you if you saw my mother before my birth and if she looked like she was about to give birth. The Dursleys mentioned that I'm not really related to them, but probably it is anoth…

He was about to write: 'another way to bully me', but he didn't want to whine and make himself out to be a victim. He noticed a couple of times that Sirius had looked at him strangely when he was talking about the Dursleys. Not that Harry said anything significant, but once or twice, he said something without thinking. The boy saw in Sirius' body language that the man had been getting angry. Not wanting to annoy him more, the teenager swiftly changed the topic, and after a moment, the man relaxed, like he had forgotten entirely what Harry had been saying.

Harry erased the last sentence and wrote:

Of course, it could be just empty words.

Greet Moony,

Best wishes,

H.

He hoped that it sounded natural enough and not disturbing. He tied the letter to the owl's leg.

"Hedwig, could you carry this to Sirius?" asked Harry, and the owl lightly pecked him on the finger in answer.

Afterwards, he decided to take a shower and go for a walk to explore his new surroundings. The day before, Tobias had given him keys to the house. Harry felt this was a really nice surprise and a sign of trust. In this little gesture, the man had really made him feel welcome. Harry made a face, realizing that Privet Drive had never been his home.

There wasn't a bathtub in the bathroom, just a shower, toilet, an old cabinet and washbasin. The bathroom had dark yellow, cracked tiles. It wasn't attractive, but it was tolerably clean. Harry was surprised when he found on the shelf a woman's flowery smelling shower soap. Was it possible that Tobias hadn't thrown it out after his wife died? In fact, Harry didn't really know how long she had been dead. Actually, he knew utterly nothing about Tobias nor his family, other than the fact that he was somehow related to Harry's Potions Master. In any case, he hoped that their relationship wasn't good, and his teacher would never visit them or find out that Harry lived there.

After a quick shower, he put on his best clothes: almost undamaged trousers and a t-shirt, which had once belonged to Fred. The redhead had misplaced the clothes somewhere in the Burrow, and when they were found in Charlie's room, they were still in really good condition. They were too small for Ron, so Harry inherited them. Harry, of course, was thrilled because his clothes were increasingly unpresentable. The clothes he inherited from Dudley were from year to year bigger (his cousin grew twice as fast as he, both in widthways and height), so Harry was really grateful when Ron gave him clothes, which he outgrew. Despite that, they also were rather worn because the redhead wasn't their first owner; they had been in much better condition than things after Dudley.

Spinner's End was located between a river and a big, green park, which secluded the neighbourhood from the rest of town. It looked utterly like a slum. Houses were grey and unsightly. Children who were running around the street reminded him of himself from when he was little – dirty, unkempt, in worn t-shirts and sweats. Still, as opposed to him, they were laughing and playing with each other. Had never had any friends. On the playground located at the centre of the park, instantly he could tell apart little habitants of Spinner's End from the others – the children from good homes: fashionable, colourful and clean dressed. One could also differentiate them from their behaviour. Some were playing completely carelessly, not knowing hunger or fear. The others behaved like they would experience short moments of happiness, then came to the grim reality—the view of the seemingly happy children playing distressed Harry a bit.

He sat at the farthest from the playground swing set, located under the vast, rank weeping willow, and he looked around. Harry noticed a couple of teenagers around his age passing by. He observed their style of clothes. The boy felt a little stupid inspecting them like that, but he wanted to know what stuff he should buy after the twins sent him the money. Harry wanted to be able to blend in. Sitting alone, he was overcome by such emptiness as usually felt at Little Whinging.

After a while, he came back home and decided to cook dinner. Harry wanted to make Tobias glad that the man took him in. The teenager was going to show him that he was useful. Perhaps Tobias would even like him a little as just Harry, not only because he thinks that they are related. The teenager wanted to show his best side. Maybe then… Maybe even if Tobias discovered the truth, he would let him stay. Harry shook his head, not wanting to think about it.

He decided to prepare vegetable soup from things which he found in the fridge. Years of cooking at the Dursleys meant that he could prepare almost everything. After he'd eaten a little, he lay down on the couch and turned on the TV. At the Dursley's, such behaviour would be inconceivable. In that house, he was an unwanted freak whose company was undesired. When he was alone, he wasn't allowed to waste electricity just to watch TV by himself. Here, on the other hand, this didn't seem to be the case yet.

A few hours later, Tobias came home with two co-workers. Both of whom were well built. The first one was blond and of average height, and the second one was taller with ginger hair.

"Harry, meet Ralf and Sam, my good buddies," said Tobias. None of them were sober.

"Uh… Hi."

"Who's that? You didn't mention that you had a kid," said the taller one named Sam.

"That's 'coz Eileen gave him up, and now I've got to take care of him," burbled Tobias. "Harry, go upstairs and study something."

"It's the holidays," pointed out the teenager.

"So, go out, find some friends, or go to sleep and don't disturb us ‘coz we're gonna talk 'bout important stuff," Tobias responded.

"Yeah, like how our fucking boss is the cheapest bitch in town," interjected Ralf tipsily.

"I made dinner; maybe I can put some on the table for you guys?" asked Harry, wanting his efforts to be noticed by Tobias.

"No thanks, the boss provides us with dinner. You'd think that he dived into his own pocket! Not a chance. He's getting a tax break or somethin'," said Tobias

"Geez, Tobias, you've got him trained; maybe we'll exchange," laughed Ralf.

Harry turned red with embarrassment.

"Yeah, for now, he's good, and if he starts to be a lil' bitch I'll chasten him." Tobias turned to Harry and added: "And you were due to be runnin' along."

Harry nodded and went upstairs, deciding to go to sleep.

He was tired, not physically, but emotionally. He wasn't going to bother himself with the fact that his plan with dinner had fallen through or Tobias' comment about chastening him because Harry was going to behave perfectly, so the man wouldn't have any reason for that. Before he went to bed, he turned the mattress to the other side, hoping that it would be more comfortable that way.

HPHPHPHPHP

Sunday, July 2nd 1995

Harry was woken up by tapping on the window. He rose from the bed and noticed two owls sitting on the window sill. The first had a letter tied to its leg and the second a package. He opened the window to let the birds in, and then he untied the parcels and gave the owls some water and treats. He was almost about to open the letter when he heard Tobias calling him from downstairs.

"Harry, come here!"

"Five minutes!" he shouted back.

He was almost sure the letter was from Sirius and couldn't wait to read it.

"Now, damn it!"

Harry sighed heavily. Reminding himself that he'd promised to be obedient so that the man won't kick him out, the boy decided it was too early to make any kind of trouble.

"I'm coming!" he shouted, once more looking at the letters with a wishful glance before turning around and rushing downstairs, jumping down two steps at a time.

He spotted Tobias lying on the couch alongside empty vodka bottles and dirty dishes in the living room. The smell wasn't pleasant. Harry made a face but decided not to comment.

"Yes?"

"When I call you, you'd better in here in a sec," the man snapped. "Not five minutes, not a moment. Now! Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. Sorry," Harry answered, swearing inwardly at his stupidity. "Won't happen again."

"Better not," said Tobias, seeming a little appeased.

"Is there something you wanted?"

"Go to the store and buy three cans of beer for me. Make sure they're already chilled." As an afterthought, he added:

"And something to eat. If you want, you can buy yourself a chocolate bar. Money's in my jacket. Only hurry up... I've got a headache."

"Caused by alcohol?" asked Harry.

"You know the hair of the dog. Go!" snapped the man.

At the store, Harry was surprised that he didn't have problems buying alcohol. A new supermarket had been built nearby, and the smaller shops, wanting to survive, didn't really concern themselves with how they got business. Selling alcohols to minors was bringing in a tidy profit, especially in a neighbourhood like this one.

Harry came back, put away the shopping, made a cheese sandwich, and hurried to his room to finally read the letters that had arrived in the morning.

"Dear Mr Potter,

Regarding the latest events, which took place in June, I would like to offer you training. You can also count on any help you may require. If you are interested, I propose a meeting at St. Stephen's Tavern in London, at a date and hour of your convenience in the following week. As this area is near Buckingham Palace, it is the area one cannot appearate to, and portkeys do not work there either, so you don't have to be afraid.

I look forward to hearing from you

Best regards,

Ghost"

Harry's eyes went wide with astonishment, which made them look almost comically big as his face was much too skinny, to begin with. There was a possibility that the letter was a trap, but on the other hand, he really needed additional training. He hadn't ever had a good teacher in the defence, with the exception of Professor Lupin, who taught more about creatures and how to incapacitate them than about fighting Death Eaters. Dumbledore seemed as if he didn't care about the deplorable state of Defence education at Hogwarts. Most certainly, he could employ some Auror or one of his acquaintances who was at least competent in this field. Most fourth years were better than Lockhart had been. Dumbledore knew that the man had been stealing memories and selling them. He hadn't had any qualms about it. How could the headmaster let him work in the school? Lockhart didn't know anything about defence, and so he certainly couldn't teach it. And there was also the strong possibility that he was casting Oblivates on the students, which of course, nobody would remember. The next example of a worse than the horrible teacher was Quirrell, who had Voldemort on the back of his head. At least Barty Crouch Junior had taught them something. If not for the little detail that Harry almost having gotten killed because of him, he would have been one of the best teachers. And that was saying something.

Potter hoped that now, after Voldemort had come back (he flinched when he thought about the circumstances of how that happened), Dumbledore would come to his senses and hire a proper DADA's teacher. Maybe he would even organize some additional lessons. Harry glanced one more time at the piece of parchment in his hand. He knew that he shouldn't agree, even though practising magic during the summer was a very tempting proposition. The defence was his favourite subject, and he learned those spells very quickly and without much effort. He hadn't had to put even half of the work into it, unlike how he did in Transfiguration, for example. He was also very curious, but he decided not to take the risk, despite his instinct (which was rarely incorrect) prompting him to make the other decision. He took out clean parchment and wrote:

Mr Ghost

Thank you for your offer, but unfortunately, I have to decline. To be honest, I don't know you, and your precautions didn't really convince me. I don't know if that anti-appearating area really exists, and I am not able to inspect it.

Best regards,

Harry Potter

He was proud of himself. He knew that he often didn't make such sensible decisions. He noticed that his words sounded a little discourteous, but he ignored it and tied the letter to the owl's leg.

Next, he opened the package. It was from the twins. There were a letter, money and some other strange things.

Dear co-owner of our micro corporation,

We are sending you the money you requested. We are really grateful for your financial support. You saved us a couple of years of work in which we would have had to gather capital for a start. That's why it would be only fair if you have a thirty-three per cent share in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. We're going to send you the prototypes of our products, too.

Don't even think about refusing, because otherwise, we will disrupt your peaceful… eee… okay, maybe not so peaceful, life at Hogwarts into one with even less peace (with the help of our gadgets).

In the box, there are:

Extendable Ears – for eavesdropping.

Two Self Inking Quills – We hope that it will help people to be able to read your messy messages writing.

And our newest stuff. For now, it's only a prototype in the testing phase: Communicational Parchments. We've got one half, and you have the other. You write the message on the green one, and we'll see what you wrote on the blue one. And it works the same way when we write something to you. For now, after you've written on all of the parchment, you have to throw them out (or better – to burn them so somebody undesirable won't find them). We're in the process of trying to make them reusable. We also want them to be able to connect with more than one person.

Once again, thanks, Co-owner of our business. If you have an idea about some new product, then don't hesitate to write to us.

Take care!

Gred and Forge

Besides Ron and Hermione, the twins were Harry's most favourite people at Hogwarts. Sometimes he had the impression that they treated him more like a brother than they did to Ron. He was probably the only person around them that didn't fall prey to their pranks, and they had yet to humiliate him. The twins only sometimes teased him a little, but never in a mean way.

He took the parchment and decided to try it at once.

'Hello', he wrote 'Do you see this?'

For a couple of minutes, nothing happened, then suddenly the blue piece of parchment twinkled, and slowly words began to show.

'Yes, we do. Glad that you've got our package and that our super product is working well.'

'What's up? Everything's alright? Have you heard something new about Voldemort? What is he doing? Have you heard anything about his plans?'

'Aaaa! Harry, those are the scariest nine letters that we've read in our whole life. Don't write it ever again!'

'I told you to stop that; it's just a word', responded Harry rolling his eyes.

'Easy for you to say, but let's not waste the parchment on that. Dumbledore is at the Burrow now. He told us not to send you any owls because they could be intercepted.' Harry got annoyed reading that. 'Fortunately, we've got these communicators, so we don't have to worry about intercepting the state secrets, which are everything that the Boy-Who-Lived says. Nobody is able to fake your scrabbling'.

'Very funny. But straight to the point, what do you know?'

'Did you hear that Dumbledore was gathering the old crowd? They call themselves the Order of the Phoenix; they fight against Death Eaters. You-Know-Who lies low and gathers supporters. He's taking advantage of the fact that the Minister denies his return.

And how are YOU? We hope you aren't beating yourself up over what happened at the Third Task, too much? We've told Dumbledore that you are too emotional to leave alone, especially at the Dursley's, but he didn't agree to let you come to the Burrow. You know, technically, he is just the headmaster and shouldn't have any say in where you stay during the summer. If anything happens, write to us, we are seventeen now; we will help you no matter what.'

Harry really felt grateful, and for a moment, he deliberated over whether he should tell them about his current position. He was sure that they would never betray him.

'I'm fine. There were a lot of changes, but I will tell you when we will meet. There is not enough parchment at the moment.'

'You would say that you're fine if you were on the bed dying. We hope that those changes are for the better at least?' The message showed up after a moment.

'Yes, they are,' Harry wrote.

'We've got to go, mom's been calling us for 5 minutes, and you know how she is. Take care of yourself, Harry.'

'See you.'

Annoyed a little by the headmaster, who wanted Harry to be alone AND without any information, he went to take a shower.

He thought once more about Ghost's letter, but he knew that meeting him would be irresponsible. He put on his clothes and went downstairs.

Tobias has been up already with a beer in his hand. He was cleaning up after yesterday's guests.

"Harry, it's good that you are here already. I was just going to call you," said Tobias when he saw him standing on the doorstep to the living room. "Take your stuff to the basement."

"What?" asked a surprised Harry, flinching a little. So, it's going to be the same as the Dursleys after all, he thought.

"Take every one of your things that are strange to the basement." Tobias put an accent on the word 'strange'. "Your mother had a room there where she kept her preternatural things, just in case somebody came to visit us. Your ministry is trying to hide magic, right?"

"Oh… Okay," said Harry, although it seemed entirely pointless for him. He didn't know anyone here and didn't think that Tobias' friends would come into his room.

"You'll find there some of Eileen's old stuff. You can look through them. I chased away Severus before he could get the things out of there, but with some, he succeeded. I told him that I would inform your government about him if he touched anything else.

"Severus?" asked Harry, even though he already knew exactly who Tobias refers to.

"Yes. Don't you know? I have an older son." The man's face darkened. "He's such a wimp. It seemed that he had some problems with your ministry because as soon as I threatened him, he went white and didn't show up again.

"But why did you need those things for?" he asked, terrified that his teacher was Tobias' son. At least it was a low possibility that the Potions Master would ever show up here.

"Nothing, but I said that if he cleared off and didn't show any appreciation that we raised him up, he won't get anything. Go now. We'll talk later."

Astonished, Harry went upstairs for his things. He had another piece of proof that this adoption was one big, fat lie. Harry Potter being a brother of Snape was impossible. He flinched at that horrible thought.

Every magical item except the invisibility cloak, photo album, and his wand was thrown into the trunk. He carefully pulled a heavy chest down the stairs, careful not to let it slip down.

At first glance, one could see that the basement wasn't visited by anyone too often. In every corner, there were thick spider webs. The walls were bare and dirty. On the floor lay plenty of things that nobody was using anymore and old furniture thrown here without any order. On the opposite side of the room was the door. Guessing that it led to the room where his current guardian stored memorabilia of his late wife, he entered without hesitation. There weren't any windows, so he searched for a light switch, found one, and turned it on. The room was as dingy as the rest of the house, but unlike in the other spaces of the house, Harry could feel the magic in the air. He noticed that there were only a handful of books left on the shelf; Snape must have gotten away with most of them. Opening the cupboards, he saw that they were full of potions ingredients. Some were dry and seemed to be alright, but the others were covered in mildew and white fuzz. Seeing this, Harry made a disgusted face.

On the table lay two cauldrons, one pewter and the other was silver. A couch was located in front of the door, and in the corner was a black trunk with a silver snake engraved on the lid. He approached it and tried to get it opened, but it wouldn't budge for him. Not seeing anything else worth looking at, he went back upstairs.

He decided to help Tobias cook dinner and clean. There was a pleasant ambience while they worked. Tobias told him a little about the neighbourhood and some stories about his friends living nearby. There was just one thing that disturbed Harry a little—when they finally sat down to eat, Tobias had already finished his third beer.

"What happened to your wife?" asked Harry boldly.

"Your mother?" Harry barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes, astonished at how the man could be so naïve. "She died not long after your birth. And I had to pay for the funeral even though she left me.

"Oh." Harry considered how to direct the conversation to the subject of the Potions Master to find out something more about their relationship. "And from then on, you lived alone?"

He must have formulated the question incorrectly because he heard:

"No. I've had a couple of women who lived with me. Of course, not all at once," he added, clearly pleased with himself.

Harry winced; he preferred not to know that bit of information.

"And why..." Harry looked down at his hands. "Why did you give me away?" He asked hesitantly, suddenly feeling nervous. His stomach clenched. He was so sure Tobias wasn't his father, but anyway, he was still afraid to hear the answer. What if ... Was it possible?

"Eileen gave you up after she left me. And I? It's not like I could take care of an infant and work at the same time. It wouldn't work. I couldn't afford a baby-sitter."

Harry looked up at Tobias, but the man did meet his eyes. However, even then, Harry noticed the slight tension in his shoulders and something in the eyes. Regret? Or maybe shame? He was not sure.

"Eileen died soon after, and I… knew you'd be better off in a full family."

'So, was there really a possibility that he was adopted? Or was Tobias talking about some other child?' wondered Harry.

"And how is your relationship with Sna… uh, Severus?" the Gryffindor faltered a little.

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm curious. I'd like to know if I have to prepare myself for his visit in the future."

He had to be sure that the Head of Slytherin would never visit his father, and if he did, Harry had to make sure to be absent.

"I don't have any contact with him. Your brother is an ungrateful, arrogant bugger" Harry, with an effort, stopped himself from smiling, feeling a small satisfaction. Snape had called Harry those words on numerous occasions. "He moved out when he was eighteen. He lives nearby, though. Sometimes I meet him in the shop or when I'm out. I took care of him for years, paid for his school, and he pretends that he doesn't know me," complained Tobias. "Perhaps I made some mistakes with him, but that doesn't entitle him to completely ignoring me, don't you agree?" he continued. "I hope that when you grow up, you won't flake out on me."

"Yeah, of course, " he assured him, feeling horrible that he was so cynically cheating the man. He was still unsure of his relationship with the man. "I didn't know the school had to be paid for?" added after a moment.

"Of course, it does. D'ya really think food is free? What 'bout teachers' salaries? Teaching aids?" Tobias opened another can of beer, and his speech seemed sloppier.

"Oh…"

Harry was sure that the Dursleys didn't pay for him. The money had to come from his vault in the Gringotts.

Or from some special fund for the Children-Who-Lived, he thought bitterly.

Of course, he hoped that the former was true. He didn't want to be in debt to someone. Also, he didn't like to be treated like someone special.

Besides that, payment for the school had to be the reason for the Weasleys' poverty. It wouldn't be hard to save some money while the children were away at school because, for nine months, no one but Mr and Mrs Weasley lived at the Burrow.

"And speaking of which, how do you like your school?" asked Tobias.

"It's really great. I love Hogwarts. You know it's like the home I've never really had."

"But now you have" Tobias smiled at him, showing crooked yellow teeth.

"Yes," Harry smiled back stiffly. It would be nice to have a place which he could call home. But this one, unfortunately, did not belong to him. He really loved Hogwarts but always wanted to have somewhere where he could be back at Christmas or holidays, just like his friends.

"D'ya have any friends? Your brother wasn't well-liked at school. Even now, I don't think that he has many friends, at which I'm not surprised."

Harry would appreciate it if Tobias stops calling the Potions Master his brother. It was rather irritating. The greasy git as his brother? Brrr. He shuddered inwardly. He didn't even want to think about it.

"Of course, I have. Ron and Hermione are my best mates. They're great. We do almost everything together. With Ron, we usually play chess or Quidditch. He is a huge fanatic; he could talk all day about his favourite team," Harry smiled, thinking about the obsessive redhead. "Hermione, on the other hand, is the bookworm type. She is always nagging us to do our homework and study," he finished rolling his eyes.

"How does she 'nag' you?" the man asked, annoyed. "You aren't able to start studying by yourself and need some wench to force you to do your homework?"

Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't want to lie, but he also didn't want to make Tobias angry at him. He knew that he wasn't the best in class. He was rather mediocre, especially with History. If not Hermione, he would barely pass. Anyway, it wasn't Tobias' business.

"It's not like she's forcing us." It was partly true; if he really didn't want to, he wouldn't write his essays. It was not like she held them under Imperius. "She just doesn't stop talking about homework and books.

"While we're on the subject, how are your grades?

"Fine…."

Most of his grades were Acceptable. The fact that he has a Dreadful in Potions, and in History, he barely had a Poor, wasn't too important. Besides, it was commonly known that Snape wouldn't give him anything better, even for a million galleons. He did get two Exceeds Expectations in DADA and Care of Magical Creatures. Besides, it's not like he couldn't do the spells; he just didn't think that theory was really worth wasting time on. His grades were his business.

"Just fine? In that case, you should try harder. I'm not going to let you embarrass me. If you have to go to that school, I want top marks. Not like Severus. Some quarterly letters were so bad that he was scared to show himself at home. But I taught him a lesson a couple of times, and his grades improved.

"What quarterly letters? Was Snape a bad student?" asked Harry.

Maybe that was the reason he took it out on them in Potions.

Perhaps he gets his own back on them for his fiascos. In his head appeared an image of Goyle with greasy hair and hooked nose and an exploding cauldron. Harry sneered a little. Okay, maybe he is taking it too far. It pained him to admit it, but he had to grant that as ugly as he is, Snape wasn't obtuse; he was even the opposite. Maybe he was lazy? Harry was sure that Severus was very good at Defence, Potions, and Herbology. Considering that he was a Potions Master and wanted to teach DADA, Snape obviously wasn't bad at these subjects. He had to be poor at other ones.

"The letters containing the child's grades, progress reports, and behaviour are sent in December, March, and June. Yours should be here soon, probably at the same time as book lists. As to Severus' marks, they weren't the worst but certainly didn't suffice. He was always looking for excuses. You know, he was blaming others. Once somebody had stolen his homework before lessons, so that he couldn't turn it in, other time he had been cursed, so he wasn't able to go to classes. I'm sure he was lying just to get away scot-free." Tobias pondered for a moment. "I think the worst was History and Numerology. Eileen told me that Arithmancy is something like Mathematics. That dunce could do better. He was just lazy and ungrateful. After all the hard work we had to do to pay for his education, and he didn't give a shit about it. That was the last time he got such bad grades. After that, he tried a little harder. You see, with a boy like him, you have to use an iron hand. His mother always defended him and connived too much, so he got lazy. Yes, the fourth year was the last time he got such lousy grades.

Harry gulped. What if Harry's marks are worse? He really didn't want to be grounded for the rest of his life. He was sure that Snape had had to sit in his room for the entire holiday and study. At least it wasn't in a cupboard, and probably he got some food.

"The Dursley's didn't mention anything about any letters."

"From what I can see, you are a really polite boy. I'm sure that you got good grades, and you didn't make any trouble." Harry really doubted that. They probably just burnt them without even reading them. "But how else did you imagine the school communicated with parents? Parents have to know what's happening to their children throughout the year. Although it's still ridiculous that you are allowed to come home only three times a year. "

The rest of the day, Harry spent with Tobias. The man taught him how to play poker, and then they watched TV. It was a really good day. But somewhere in his mind, there was still little thought that it was all just a lie. He tried to banish the thought, but it was rather fruitless.