Start of time by Hopeless Wanderer

Chapter ten.

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/"....THREE! " the small child backed away from the figure, his hazel eyes huge in wariness.

"Boy...?... Harry..." the small hand was batted away harshly and the other child started fussing, Aiden frowned and pulled Harry's hand away from his ear, the other boy lashed out without opening his eyes and shouted.

"FOUR! FOUR!" Aiden picked up his toy and looked at the freak again. Daddy had warned him before, he had told Aiden that he shouldn't go near Harry when he was being weird and freaky. Now it happened all the time, he couldn't just stop /counting/. It made Aiden hate numbers, the way the boy hurled out each one like an insult, of course the three year old had no idea what was going on around him.

It started half an hour ago, he was playing all by himself in the drawing room, enjoying a good evening with his toy snitch and broom, when suddenly he crashed into a glass vase on the coffee table, he wasn't hurt, but the vase broke. Aiden started crying feverishly and called out to his mommy and daddy as loud as he could.
Instead, the boy came halting to the room, his eyes huge and glazed over as his gaze fell on the broken vase and then traced back to his brother.

Aiden could only watch as the boy's lips trembled and he sniffed, whimpering. Aiden wailed as he stood cautiously, just when the other boy promptly broke into tears and covered his ears. Then the counting started. That was thirty minutes ago.

What is he doing?! The small child thought to himself, and could only stare, his sore ankle and broken vase long forgotten, he called Harry a few times before completely giving up.

"FIVE!"

Tears pooled in his own eyes and he ran out of the room shakily, running away from the freak as fast as he could and to his parents to the other side of the Manor, but the voice seemed to follow him.

"SIX!"

"Aiden! What's wrong sweetie?!" he rushed into his mommy's arms and wailed.

""He's being mean again mommy! He is counting!"

Counting had become a taboo in their house, whenever the boy was caught counting mommy or daddy made sure to punish him, whenever Aiden cried, Harry started counting, whenever he didn't make it to the bathroom, Harry started counting, Aiden now hated him as much as his parents did. He never played, he always cried and smelled bad, and his clothes were funny.

Mommy kissed him on the head and nodded at Daddy grimly. Then she scooped him higher up her hip and started walking the other way, back into Aiden's playing room as Daddy went over to the drawing room.

"SEVEN!"

That was the last time he heard Harry counting for at least two months. /

Aiden furrowed in his breakfast plate. This was the boy who wanted to come back and live with them?

He honestly didn't know how to feel about it.

He really didn't care that much. Not really, that was the earliest memory he had of Harry, and he really couldn't bring himself to express any positive sentiment towards the boy, they had a long history, him and Harry. with Harry either screaming his head off, or crying all the time, to him purposefully getting him into trouble a few times, and his parents generally hating him and berating him at every turn.

He didn't care then, and he didn't care when he was gone, his parents never brought it up and he never asked, why should he? It didn't effect his daily life in any way, other than the presence of house elves after Harry was gone and there was no one else to do the chores. It was unimportant.

And he certainly could care less about it now that he heard his parents mentioning him. A long time ago, this boy had been a part of his life, then he wasn't, Aiden could even bet that he wouldn't know the boy now in the street if it wasn't for the daily prophet writing articles about him every few months.

Instead of obsessively following his day to day life, or being jealous of Harry, Aiden rather play his Quidditch and stay out of the drama, who cared about Harry James anyway? Every memory of him was either being beaten or him whining and crying, or /making/ Aiden cry, quiet and meek, around adults, but a right rascal when they were alone.

"So we're moving back home then?" he asked his mom as he played around with his food, looking nonchalant and uninterested in his breakfast and the conversation.

Now that he thought about it, he was actually mad about one thing the boy had done to him over the years, Aiden had been driven away from his home, forced to leave his childhood house in favor for another mansion in France.

He wasn't really one to complain about these things, and he came to love their current home over the years, but still, the pang of hurt followed him whenever he thought of his home.

Mom took her time, considering her answers, she finally nodded, sipping at her tea. "It's better if you went to Hogwarts anyway, and your father thinks it's time we got your brother back home too."

Again. Not interested, just a little mad and nonchalant. At least he tried to act like it.

She said /your brother/ with such a tone that to anyone else it might have seemed like she had actually missed him, or as if Harry was back home from a seven years long vacation. Aiden knew better, whereas Mom and Dad loved him and cherished him with all their might, they hated Harry, with a passion. Both him and his adoptive family, whoever they were.

They both had a reason for wanting the boy back in their lives, the twelve years old just knew it, and he would know about it sooner or later.

Ridding himself of the morbid thoughts, Aiden secretly marveled over the boarding school he was about to attend, unable to take the eager grin off his face.
He only hoped that Hogwarts would be as good as his dad made it out to be, with ghosts, and candlelit halls and a shape shifting teacher who could turn into a cat. It made something in him tingle in excitement, something that wasn't Quidditch. After three years of getting home schooled, and tutored by family instructors, Aiden could use a rest, though school did sound exciting to him, he hadn't gone there or interacted with any normal students since primary school.

After mumbling an apology to his mother and getting excused, he made his way to his room, enjoying his stroll through the archways despite his sullen mood, relishing the beautiful view of a Wednesday morning, and of course the great Valley leading to Beuvron-en-Auge, a beautiful village he had come to adore over the years. Aiden lingered by the double doors and pursed his lips. five minutes walk from their mansion and he could visit the candy shop... He perished the thought, he'd rather fly for now.

The twelve year old spent the day as he always did, did his essays and mussed over the almost stranger brother before almost forgetting all about it after engaging his mom in a game of chess.

He took out his broom and went flying in their field, careful not to linger long enough for a house elf to come and fetch him ( they were nasty) , while thinking about this Harry person again.

Should he feel threatened? He was only twelve after all, and Harry even at the age of five__ if he remembered right__was a dangerous person, Aiden recalled his shrill voice quite accurately. Those quiet emerald eyes, following his every move, stealing food from him, crying whenever he cried and last night...in that newspaper... Did his parents really want him that bad? He suppressed a shudder mid air and took some extra laps around their heavily warded house to stall long enough to get that horrible image out of his subconscious.

He had only gotten a glimpse of the picture plastered over the daily prophet yesterday, but the peak was more than enough to want him to lose his breakfast right then. He shuddered this time and then shook his head, trying to get the graphic photo out of his head.

He was so lucky that he had no active imagination, he did /not/ fancy dreaming about his toasted long disowned brother at nights too, not when he could see the real one fairly soon anyway. Living with them.

Aiden pulled up shallowly, ruffling his auburn short bangs out of his eyes, thinking about how much he hoped that Harry wasn't as creepy as he looked.
Only time could tell, the boy concluded as he heard a house elf yelling his name.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He couldn't take it anymore.

It had been approximately six hours since he had woken, roughly eight in the evening, and Harry had reached his breaking point.
After his Dad left and Harry was once again knocked out for at least half an hour, he was left alone. Completely by himself for hours, no one visited, no one knocked, Dad never tried to come back and apologize.

Harry actually feared that Dad might leave him in the hospital, but then berated himself for being stupid. It couldn't be as easy as that, if Dad wanted to abandon him, he would do it in a way so Harry would know.

A nurse came in around three hours later, brought him a tray of bland food, even glancing at it made Harry's gut churn, so it went straight to the bin as soon as she was out. Sometime, when he was probably still sedated the healer must have came in, because, he felt a hell lot better when he woke and the bandages on his arms and legs were considerably thinner.

All that aside, Harry needed to count. Badly. The calming draughts might have calmed him down to prevent panic attacks and whatnot, but Harry /felt/ the need, beneath his skin. It wasn't about soothing his anxiety, it was about getting his mind together, because Harry could swear in the last few hours he couldn't think about a thing.

Not his dad, not his face, not Janet, nothing. His mind was a blank space, hazy and unsure of everything. Even his recent argument with the man was unclear and fuzzy.

So after enduring the unblemished silence for another ten minutes, Harry finally opened his eyes, sat up and looked around the empty ward, having been given his glasses as the dinner nurse came by.

Sharp orange walls, no windows for escape, a door that supposedly led to the bathroom and of course a get well soon basket filled with sweets he wasn't allowed to touch, set on a couch farther away from his bed.

Harry considered his options, deciding where would be a good hiding place for counting, he didn't want to do it in his bed, someone might see him, and probably knock him out again.

The floor was crossed out seconds after, because honestly? He couldn't trust his legs to bend in a crouching position, the couch was too obvious, and under the bed was very cramped and dirty too, that only left the bathroom. The toilet seat, to be exact.

Sighing, the boy bit his lips to stifle the pain, and fully dragged himself in a better position, his hand was clutching the side rail.

Carefully, and a little exasperated, Harry took out all of the disgusting tubes out of his arm, except the one under the white cloth that led directly to a nutrition IV, knowing that he couldn't bear to see his appearances without having a mental breakdown.

What he could see, was making him sick already, he couldn't have looked this bad if he was hit by an airplane and then stomped under a herd of trolls. Now, he looked like a warmed up corpse whose skin had been peeled off and then stuck back together with spit.

He rolled his eyes, and maneuvered his legs to the bedside. He took a moment of rest, he was doing way better than he thought, the pain relievers might have a hand in that. He mused, his eyes suddenly caught something on his bedside table.

It was a stuffed animal. A blue hippogriff. Harry blinked, his mission temporarily forgotten, he reached out and picked up the said toy.

Who would send him a stuffed animal? Harry was fourteen, everyone knew he didn't like these things anymore... Except for Rabbity.

Cautiously, the boy inspected the thing, eyeing the royal blue ribbon around its neck. Dad wouldn't send something like this, would he? It seemed unlikely, Dad wouldn't do something like this.

The Weasleys? Why would they?

Sirius? Or Remus? Shrugging, Harry picked it up, positioning it right near his pillow before clutching the hand rail with all his might.

This is the tricky part. He thought, panting slightly. Putting one leg on the floor he tested the weight, wincing as his blackened fingers seared with pain. Frostbite, was sure as hell more painful than its disgusting looks.

His mind probably didn't register the half of the pain as it was so desperate for a sanctuary, Harry was soon crouching, half leaning on the bed with his legs on the ground, he winced at the cold tiles brushing against his fingers but didn't ponder on it. His mind was on auto pilot, if he needed to count, then he would. There was no questions.

Thankfully the IV had wheels and Harry had no trouble leaning on it all the way to the bathroom, his legs were stiff as boards and cold sweat had broken out on his face, but his mind was dead set on one thing only, emptying his mind and getting to the bathroom.

Once in, Harry panted as he locked the door, nearly collapsing on the toilet seat, his blurry vision didn't pay attention to the details as Harry struggled to bend his fingers on his ears without yelping out in pain.

After five unsuccessful tries and on a verge of tears, he gave up. Side eyed the mirror, cringing as he saw his bald red scalp and then closed his eyes before it got to his face.

One. He was lost, he was scared, confused, angry, and so many other things he had no name for. A fourteen year old boy wasn't fit to feel these emotions, he thought he was going to explode.

Two.

His mind was blank.

What should he think? Two, what? Disgruntled, he snapped his jaw and continued.

Two.

...

Please work. Please. He pleaded, shaking his head.

Two. He had nothing. He had no one. They all lied to him, the two of them, his dad, his /father/... Oh merlin, he was so screwed.

Harry physically struggled, shivering from the cold, and fighting off the sudden flare in his mind.

Three. What was he supposed to think? Was it his fault for running away? Could anyone blame him for doing so? Harry couldn't blame himself for running, but he also couldn't blame anyone else, except for her. She was the monster here.

Four. He was... Ugly. He didn't know how to feel about that, he hadn't directly looked into the mirror, but from what he seen and felt, things were bad. He hoped they would heal. He deserved that one thing. He didn't want to look hideous for the rest of his alone miserable life.

Five. He was struggling. To come up with things to count, it could be the calming draught or his own distraught mind, Harry couldn't tell. The cold chill cooled his thighs, and he was shaking all over. The headache was getting increasingly worse.

Six. Look. His mind whispered, look in the mirror, just a small peak. He stilled, eerily aware of the mirror on the wall right next to him, he had to look. He scrunched up his eyes, no. He couldn't stop counting.

Seven. He couldn't be that bad, if the Weasleys and his dad tolerated him long enough without gawking at him or mentioning it, then he couldn't be that bad.
Hesitantly, he stopped counting, opening his eyes, Harry lowered his aching hands and threw another glance at the mirror. His heart jackhammered in his chest, he had to maneuver the IV so he could stand again.

With bated breath, he rounded the mirror and looked with drooping eyes.

He sucked in a sharp breath. He /did/ look that bad, he looked worse. His face was smooth, almost smooth, the colors were all wrong though, his whole face was very pale, whereas his forehead looked at least two shades darker in tone, the darker skin continued down his right cheek, creased over his face a little, and formed into an ugly star shaped scar right near his lips. White scars marred the paler side, invisible from afar, but Harry could see them just fine. He had no eyebrows, no hair, nothing. His startling emerald eyes followed their reflection into the mirror, too stunned to really show a reaction.

He was hideous.

"I should have finished counting." he whispered.

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"Where are you going?" Janet caught his arm as she entered the hallway, and furrowed. Severus shook his head.

"I need to talk with Albus. I can't go back to school like this, I'll be back soon."

"There's no need, I talked to him last night, when you were.... Out of it. He agreed on annual leave with steady payment and everything, he said that we only need to focus on Harry for now."

Severus blinked dumbly and then relented, feeling somewhat ashamed for some reason. Though even he couldn't stop the sigh of relief from escaping his mouth, one less thing to worry about. He guiltily felt relieved.

"How's Harry?" Janet had just returned from their house apparently, she looked way much better than she did earlier, with clean clothes and even her makeup intact. Severus wondered if she was also on leave from work or not.

"No idea. They threw me out when I tried to talk to him." as much as he didn't like to admit it, it stung, not the words Harry spoke, rather the way he said it, the expression on his face and the sincerity. Making sure to let Snape know that he really believed in what he said, it broke his heart, but Severus didn't have the time to think about it now. He had work to do.

"What did he say? Did you at least tell him about the trial?" his finance pushed him back down into a seat and narrowed her eyes as he sighed.

"He didn't even listen. He is mad beyond belief, if it keeps going like this I wonder if he would ever listen." he needed planning, maybe an hour or two in his private Chambers or with his cauldrons. He couldn't stay here waiting for Harry and beg for forgiveness as much as he wanted to, Black and Potter weren't waiting for him to earn Harry's heart back again. They had to act now.

"He has a right though, I feel like a monster. I should have just told him everything. Look at this mess now." she gestured with her hands and cracked her neck.

"We can't keep blaming ourselves anymore, there is no point in crying over spilled milk." keep telling yourself that. The sarcastic part snapped back. Janet however nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah... Talked to Molly on our way out, she's going to contact some friends in the ministry, see if she can keep the news from reaching Potters." she subtly changed the subject, leaning against his shoulder. Snape narrowed his slated eyes.

That was inevitable, Potter would know within hours. He sneered bitterly.

"I have to find a lawyer." he blurted out, Janet turned to face him incredulously.

"Don't you have one already?" Severus shook his head and corrected.

"I /had/ a lawyer who helped me get custody of Harry, but we're not in the best of terms at the moment." seeing as he was dead anyway. he cringed inwardly. Chastising himself over his recklessness.

"He was insistent that we change Harry's name, to avoid a situation like this. I disagreed." he continued reluctantly.

"Why didn't you just change his name then?" Janet exclaimed.

Severus felt his stomach churn uncomfortably, and felt the need to defend his actions.

"I had no choice on the matter, Harry, for whatever reason seemed very attached to his name, specially his last name. Perhaps it was the identity stability, or something similar, whatever the case... He didn't want to change his name. I didn't force him."

Maybe Poppy was right. Maybe I wasn't the right parent for Harry. Parents should make decisions that are best for their wards, not the other way around... He squatted the thought and turned his attention back to his rambling fiance.

"Can't you contact him again? Make amends? We really don't have time to look for a lawyer in such a short notice." she admitted, worrying her lip.

"He's dead. We might not need a lawyer anyway. I need to talk with some ministry officials and some people first." he could pull a few strings, if he needed to.
He quickly ran a list of ministry officials in his head, cursing himself inwardly at the same time for not thinking about it sooner. He smirked.

If Potter could buy the child services, Lucius had the whole ministry around his little finger...he mused.

Lucius... Hmm... Maybe he needed to visit the man at his Manor rather than the ministry, easier to avoid paparazzi, and a place where he could speak freely without having to fear sever consequences. They were close friends once, and he was Draco's godfather, surely the man had some heart down there in his rock solid chest, his mind didn't get far with that idea, Lucius was a Slytherin much like himself, he would never help without getting something in return. Snape couldn't risk it with Harry. Not yet.

"How are you?" Janet shrugged in response.

"Fine, I got some sleep, got myself together, thank merlin the baby's only two months along now otherwise..." Snape heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't believe that he had forgotten about the baby too. His luck just kept on coming, he rolled his eyes sarcastically.

He also couldn't believe that he had let his /pregnant / finance run back and forth and make amends all night while he had wallowed in self pity. Oh merlin.
"Oh merlin, the baby. Is he alright?" she rolled her eyes, and shook her head.

"We're fine Sev. Don't worry about it."

"I can't believe I forgot about the baby..." Janet cut him off and waved a dismissive hand.

"You had other things going on, and it's not a big deal, honestly. I feel alright and you have seven months to fuss over me. I'm more worried about Harry." her eyes went dark, she pinched her hand.

"He needs an adult by his side right now, I can't believe they made you leave the room." Severus hummed in agreement, and leaned his head back.

He couldn't either, how could Harry bear all that weight on his shoulder alone? The trauma, his appearances, the changes... Severus then frowned. He knew that he couldn't leave alone, but...

"I couldn't have stayed, he was stressed enough as it was when he saw /me/. I would have stayed anyway but the healer assured me that he's under supervision." hopefully, Harry would let him visit soon, Severus did not feel overly comfortable leaving his injured and traumatized son with a bunch of strangers.

"You're worried that he...?" Janet nodded towards his door down the hallway. Severus's frown deepened.

"No, I am merely confused. Harry starts counting whenever he's under stress or overly upset. As far as I'm aware at the moment, Harry had been awake for hours with no signs of anxiety. Up until he talked to me." it was really strange.

"That is disconcerting." his fiance agreed, wincing sympathetically.

"I will try again this evening, hopefully Harry is better by then. There is nothing we can do here now, you go an get some rest, I will stay here." Janet was pregnant and on her feet way more than necessary, with more than enough caffeine that was healthy for a pregnant woman. She needed rest.

Janet chortled.

"Then who goes to the ministry? Don't be absurd, I'll stay here and you go to the ministry, find a lawyer, fill paper work, and maybe talk to Albus. So much can be done here, there is no point in you sitting here all day." she finished her rant and kissed him as he was about to answer. Several returned the kiss briefly before pulling away.

"You're pregnant____"

"Pregnant, Severus. Not dying." She teased, smirking.

"Alright then, but you will contact me if anything happens." she nodded.

"No caffeine please." he added sternly and she winked.

"And the canines aren't allowed to visit him. Got it. Love you." she smiled brightly, pecking him quickly on the lips.

"I love you too." and he meant it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

/ throwing Harry a birthday party was probably her best decision yet, it could possibly be the worst, but she was at the end of her ropes.
She was drenched in guilt all the time, shuddering with her conscious hanging over her neck every time she countered the child, desperate to earn his trust, but at the same time wary that she would give something away.

So far, making his favorite foods, or treats weren't helping, not when he managed to sneak away from the meals subtly enough that Severus wouldn't notice or sneering at her general direction at the table as he munched on his food with an angry glare. Praising and trying to be his friend was not making such progress either, if anything, it only made him glare at her more than he originally did.

She thought that perhaps, ignoring him would be the answer, but it only made it worse, she could /feel/ him radiating tension every time the two encountered.
She thought, that maybe his memories were coming back, or maybe he had recognized her somehow, and thus talked Severus into putting a thin layer of glamour on her at nights, few nights a week would be enough to settle down the child's suspicions.

It wasn't that hard to look like anyone but Janet Evans, a simple hair dye and a haircut, changed her features so drastically, that she didn't even bother to put contacts or glamours, still Harry seemed to hate her.

A birthday party would be a good surprise, for Harry and Severus both, it meant new changes for all of them.
As far as she knew, Harry loved babies, and younger children, she and Severus have already been talking about marriage, and she could use this baby to show Harry who she really was.

This was the redemption she was looking for all her life, she was in love, she was pregnant, and if she got lucky, maybe she wouldn't even need to tell Harry about her true identity, and he would eventually start to like her, or at the the very least, tolerate her existence.

So without another thought, and giddy to finally finding the solution, she made plans to throw the best birthday party Harry could ever have without overwhelming him. She could make the cake and announce the good news, Harry wouldn't have to like it at first, but Janet personally knew how much the boy loved small children.

Xx

"Why do you hate me so much?"

You know why. He has every right to, even though he doesn't remember you. She had no right to ask that question, even if Harry had no idea who she was, it felt morally wrong to ask for more, but she also knew that Harry needed this, the little nudge to confess to his feelings and let it all out without Severus breathing down his neck.

He clung to him like the child he was, soaking her shirt in seconds, blubbering words she couldn't quite make out, but could find good substitute for, her breath hitched as her shirt was pulled down a little, hesitantly, she brought her hand up to rub his back, and pulled up the fabric up with her forearm along the way.
He can't know.

Xx

"So... You let him lie under a cramped bed for two hours because he was just feeling like being there?!" this was ridiculous, she thought. She had never questioned Severus's parenting methods before, but now, some of them just seemed... Off.

Severus shook his head, reissuing the urge to snap. "No Jan. I didn't /let/ him to stay under a bed for two hours. He /felt/ like hiding from me, I couldn't find him since he had my wand, I spent two hours /looking/ for him." his exasperation only made her feel more agitated.

What was this?!! This stories sounded more like a horror story than their daily lives, Harry was supposed to be happy with his new life, he was supposed to forget his past rotten childhood, live on the rest of his life without a hitch. Not like this. She swallowed thickly.

"This only happened once, right?" please tell me yes, don't let me be wrong.

"The first few years were a little frustrating, but it rarely happens anymore." the man admitted sheepishly, and rubbed the back of his neck. Janet was speechless.

"And the thing with his weird clothes organization?! Who puts mismatched socks in the bathroom drawer, and turned out pants in his closet? You do know that they're all neatly organized by color and theme and yet they're all... Inside out?" that wasn't all, Harry's habits were so odd, that even the potion master looks slightly miffed by some of them.

Janet knew better though, she might not know the exact extent of his abuse when he was a child, but even she could remember Lily complaining about Harry's stupidity by putting James's mismatched socks in the wrong drawer, or trying to make Aiden cry by putting out his clothes inside out on purpose?!
These weren't accidents, she knew that.

"I do know what you're thinking. Harry told me all about them Janet." Severus's voice broke her out of her thoughts. He gave her a knowing look, tinged with bitterness and a pang of anger.

Severus poured himself a cup of steaming tea. "He tells me everything, and I really don't mind as long as it's harmless."

Janet stared at him skeptically. "Why do you let him do these things, if they remind him of his rotten life?!" she didn't give up her life and cover for Harry to move to the page one again! She did it so he would be safe, as much as she loved Severus the man wasn't making any sense.

"By allowing him to put socks in bathroom drawers, or organizing his clothes the way he wants, I'm showing him that they are not punishable acts. He feels safe enough to put his clean socks in the bathroom drawer, and he gets to do so until he needs to." his eyes were hard and his tone Stern. But she wasn't giving up.

"He needs help Severus. As much as you try to deny it..."

"You're the one who went through his wardrobe, not me. Harry doesn't need anyone's help. He's happy, he has friends, he has a life, godfathers, /me/, and he hadn't had any nightmares in almost three years now. Janet, /my son/ is not the boy you left in the streets."

Then why did she felt like he was? /