Before Severus could respond he found himself alone and back at his desk in his classroom. The essays were waiting and he pushed them aside. Rising from his chair he began to pace. The things that he had seen did not gel with the things he knew. Potter lived with his maternal grandparents. His father’s parents having died before the child was born. There was no way Lily or her parents would have allowed petty Petunia to raise the brat.

He knew the Potter was just as spoilt and arrogant as his father. He was always getting away with things – the troll at Halloween, the Quidditch team. The professors felt sorry for him so they were lenient with the boy. He was always starting fights with Draco Malfoy and others… No not others. He had to admit he never heard of Potter getting into arguments with other students.

He didn’t like where his thoughts were taking him. He turned to his desk packing up his things he went to his private quarters. He placed the things he carried on the desk in the living room and made his way to the hearth. There he pointed his wand at the dying embers and muttered a charm that would add more wood and coax the embers back to life. From there he made his way to the hooks near the front door. He took off his teaching robes and hung them up. He eased his heavy dragon hide boots off his feet and sighed as he slid said feet into his slippers.

The warmth from the fire began to permeate the room taking the chill from the air. Making his way to the liquor cabinet he poured two fingers of his favourite scotch into a tumbler. With the amber liquid in hand he took a seat near the fire. He watched the dancing flames becoming lost in them.

He became aware of a presence and groaned when he realised who it was, “Potter,” he spat.

“Severus,” James said with a nod, “Be thankful it’s me and not Lily. She is not happy with you.”

Snape paled at the mention of Lily’s name. He knew firsthand what her temper was like. “Yes you are right. I suppose we are going on a journey,” the professor said quietly.

“Yes. You might want to grab your robes and put some shoes on. It’s bloody cold out there.”

The Potions Master crossed the room and donned his outer clothes. He was surprised when Potter Sr. opened the front door. “After you,” he said bowing low. Snape walked into the hallway. “This way.” They turned and headed towards the Slytherin dorms.

The common room was somewhat cheerful with a crackling fire and tasteful Christmas decorations. Five stockings hung from the mantel. Severus knew who they were for. At James’ insistence he took a closer look at Draco’s letter to Santa. The brat had asked for everything from a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans to a racing broom to a Ferrari. He smirked at the list but sadly he realised the boy would probably get nearly everything he had asked for and more.

They left the dungeons and made their way up to the Gryffindor common room. As with the Slytherins there was a cheery fire and Christmas decorations. Stockings hung there as well but there were not enough for the amount of lions that had stayed behind. When he looked closer Harry’s was missing. “Look in Ron Weasley’s stocking,” James told him.

Inside he found two letters. One in Weasley’s almost illegible writing and the other in Harry’s messy script. He opened the letter and was saddened at what he read.

‘My friend Ron said I have to write. I know I’m not supposed to but I don’t want to argue with him at Christmas.

I’m well aware that you don’t come to freaks like me. So there is no point in asking for anything. This is just to keep Ron happy.

Harry’

The professor looked at the small pile of gifts that had already been placed beneath the tree for Harry. He recognised Molly Weasley’s writing so he knew there was a jumper and probably some fudge in that parcel. There was a gift from the youngest Weasley male, one from Granger and one from Hagrid. There was a mystery gift with neither tag nor card. “That unmarked one is from Albus,” James helpfully supplied, “Though I wish he had waited until Harry was older.”

“It’s that damnable cloak of yours isn’t it?” Snape asked.

“Yes it is.”

“Who’s the really small one from?”

“Petunia and Vernon. They sent him a fifty pence piece. No matter which present he opens it will be the first he has received since Lily and I were murdered. Hedwig was his first birthday gift since then. Come.”

“Why is your son in Petunia’s loving care? Surely Rose and Henry would have taken him?”

“I forgot you were in Azkaban so you wouldn’t know they were targeted shortly after that Halloween night. Tuney was spared because she no longer lived there. Harry should have gone to Sirius. If not him then anyone else except the Weasleys because of the number kids they have and Petunia. I should have listened to Lily and put you on the list.”

“Me? Why?”

“Instead of staying with Harry Sirius took off after Pettigrew. You, you stayed and you comforted him until Hagrid arrived. You did more for the son of your enemy than his chosen godfather did.”

James had led the way upstairs. They found the first year boys dorm easily enough. “They won’t hear us or know that we’re here,” James said as they made their way to the foot of Harry’s bed. Severus looked around and noted that the only thing adorning the boy’s personal space was his owl’s cage. The other boys had posters, books and in Longbottom’s case plants. James drew the other man’s attention to his son’s trunk that he had opened.

“Do you know why he has such substandard work?” Snape shook his head, “He has enough ink and parchment to see him through the year. There is no extra for rewrites. Also he was never taught how to use a quill. Minerva doesn’t teach first years the way you do.”

“Granger’s essays are legible and she’s muggleborn,” Snape pointed out.

“Weasley is a pureblood wizard and you can barely read his.”

“Point taken.”

“Besides Harry can barely see. Those glasses aren’t his prescription. Petunia got them from a charity bin when he was five because the teacher complained. He’s never had his eyes looked at. Yours is the only class where he sits down the back because of you. He has to rely on his partners and books to get things right.”

“I never thought about his eyes. I just thought he had the same problem you did and chose not to take the potion like you did.”

“He doesn’t even know about the potion.”

“I see.”

“Take a good look in his trunk, Severus. Just like his glasses his clothes are deplorable. You wouldn’t use them as rags. He has exactly what was on the supplies list, no extra.”

Snape was looking. He had to admit the clothes were horrid. Far too big for the child, full of holes, tears and stains. “I don’t understand it, I know Albus has been paying a stipend for your son’s upkeep,” the professor said quietly.

“Yes that’s how they manage to spoil that brat of theirs. ‘Out of the goodness of their hearts they took Harry into their home. They gave him clothes off their precious son’s back. They fed him from their plates.’ That’s what they constantly tell Harry and anyone else who asks. They would even tell you that load of tripe because they believe it to be true.”

“I had no idea. How did he end up in Gryffindor? The hat usually sorts the abused ones into my house.”

“It tried to but thanks to Hagrid, Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley Harry refused.”

“Let me guess both Hagrid and Weasley spouted off about only evil people coming out of Slytherin. Draco no doubt was his usual ‘I’m better than you’ self,” Snape said with disgust.

James Potter said nothing as the Potions Master repacked Harry’s trunk. He could see that the man was deep in thought.

As Severus closed the lid he saw a little foot. It wasn’t hanging out of the side of the bed instead it was on the floor. He followed the attached leg and growled when he found Harry asleep on the floor. He was tempted to move him but felt Potter Senior’s hand on his shoulder, “You’ll wake him. He’s not allowed to sleep in a bed or sit on a sofa or an arm chair. Haven’t you ever noticed he never complains about how hard the stools and benches are? He’s used to them.”

“It’s cold in here he should be in bed,” Snape protested.

“The elves cast warming and cushioning charms around him once he’s asleep. They tried moving him into the bed but he became so distraught they never tried again. Come it’s time to return to you rooms.”

It was a very subdued Severus Snape that followed the spirit of James Potter. Back in the Potions Master’s quarters James wished him good luck and vanished.