
1. Trash to Treasure

Severus Snape was having a miserable day.  It had begun when he'd stubbed his toe getting out of bed, and subsequently provided him with burnt toast for his breakfast, irritating Ministry twits waylaying him in the Leaky Cauldron, argumentative shopkeepers asking outrageous prices for items he simply had to have, and one scrawny brat attempting to pick his pocket.

Correction: one scrawny, _filthy_ brat _successfully_ picking his pocket.

With an audible growl, Severus put his long legs to good effect in chasing after the little rat who had managed to slip from his grasp.  The child was frustratingly quick, and was evidently quite at home darting though the shadier backstreets and alleys of London's wizarding world.  Severus was almost as familiar with the nooks and crannies of this area, however, and managed to grab hold of the child after only a few minutes.  He then struggled to keep hold of the slippery urchin while he caught his breath, firmly ignoring the stitch in his side.  The child was not so hampered by lack of stamina, and was quite happy to put his mouth to other uses than panting for breath or talking.

"You little - !" Severus swore whole-heartedly at the brat, who had displayed somewhat vampiric tendencies and sunk his teeth deep into Severus' wrist.  Gritting his own teeth, the Potions Master let go with his right hand long enough to grab his wand from his pocket.  The brief respite was enough for the child to wriggle free once more, but he'd barely taken two steps before Severus hit him with a full body bind.

The child should have dropped like a stone.  Instead, Severus moved only just in time to avoid the rebounding spell as it _bounced_ off the brat and came flying back at him.  The child himself spared a quick glance backwards, and Severus had a brief glimpse of the greenest eyes he'd ever seen staring back at him.

"Bloody hell," he muttered before chasing after the child once again.  This time he had his wand out and ready, and made quick work of trapping the child in a specially crafted dead end - taking a little extra effort to ensure that none of his spells hit the child in question.  The green eyes were now narrowed, darting every which way as the child sought another avenue of escape; Severus was not inclined to oblige him.

"Well, boy," he said between breaths, keeping his wand hand steady and his eyes trained on the child for the first hint of flight.  "I believe you have something of mine."

The child scowled at him; he scowled back.  After a brief battle of wills, the boy dropped Severus' purse on the ground.  Severus made no move to pick it up, maintaining his focus on the boy himself.  A cursory examination provided him with ample justification for his initial assessment of the brat as scrawny and filthy.  A mop of messy black hair trailed down to his shoulders, casting his face in shadow when he tilted it just so, and his clothes were obviously the castoffs of people much taller than him, well worn and as dirty as the boy himself.  It was really only the boy's eyes that set him apart from any of the other street brats drifting around the area.  That, and the ability to reflect magic.

"How did you do that, boy?" Severus pressed him, moving inexorably toward the boy.  "How did you deflect my spell?"

The child visibly tensed, and Severus prepared himself to lunge forward to grab the child - only to stare in shock as the boy nervously brushed his fringe from his eyes, revealing a lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

"You..." the stunned man breathed in disbelief, then grasped desperately as the boy tried to dart past him and out of the dead end.  This time he succeeded in holding on to the struggling boy, yet he knew he could not hold him indefinitely, and magically restraining him did not appear to be a viable option.  After some awkward shifting, two further bites, one near miss for his groin and several rounds of cursing, he managed to activate his emergency portkey.

Snape Manor had never seemed a more welcome sight to him.  The child, however, had different views.  Scrambling to his feet from where he had been dumped to the floor by the portkey transfer, he stood stiffly with wide eyes swiftly scanning the manor's entrance hall before returning to rest on Severus himself.

The wizard had wasted no time in taking action against losing his unexpected guest, altering the protections and wards on the grounds so that only those he permitted would be allowed out of as well as into the manor.

"Don't even bother," Severus informed the boy harshly as the child's eyes flickered to the doors briefly.  "You will not be able to leave this house without my permission."  At least, he hoped that was the case.  After the reflection of his spell earlier he was loathe to rely on what should be.

The boy's eyes were wary enough that Severus did not fear an immediate attempt to depart, yet he was now left facing the question of what to do with the child.  Ushering the urchin with scowl and wand into the adjacent sitting room, he made an abortive attempt to contact Albus Dumbledore by means of the fireplace while the boy made a similarly fruitless effort at escaping by floo - which nearly set both of them alight.

"Let me reiterate, boy!" Severus snarled as he dusted ash off his robes.  "You are going _nowhere_ without my express permission, _do you understand?_"

The boy simply glared up at him from his position on the floor in response, but in his eyes fear was evident for the first time.

"Stay there!" 

Without further ado, the irate man summoned writing implements from the desk in the corner and penned a succinct note to the Headmaster of Hogwarts.  Whistling brought the services of a tawny owl to convey the letter, which was sent post-haste.  It would be several long hours before a response could reasonably be expected.  Severus' mood was nowhere near 'reasonable'.

The boy had surprisingly stayed still, as ordered, during the time it had taken him to write the letter.  Making the most of the brief respite from wrestling with the slippery child, he surveyed his wounds.  Of the three bites that now graced his left hand and forearm, two had drawn blood.  Given the state of the child he was inclined to dose himself with the strongest general prophylactic agent he possessed in addition to applying the more regular healing salves.  Not that the boy appeared to be diseased at all, merely as dirty as mud.  Indeed, it was a wonder he'd seen the scar at all, half-camouflaged as it was by streaks of grime.

He narrowed his eyes at the boy who glared right back, weighing costs and benefits in his mind.  The marks on the carpet and the distasteful odour in the air decided the matter.

"Stand up!" he commanded.  "Move!  That way!"

Wonder of wonders, direct orders appeared to gain the desired result - although the boy was quite hesitant about moving forward in the right direction, taking the time to survey the stairs and hallways they traversed.  Under Severus' watchful eye they made slow but steady progress to their destination: the closest guest room and - more importantly - its en suite bathroom.

Locking the door behind them with a spell, he directed the boy to strip off his ragged clothes while he went to prepare the bath.  Upon reentering the main room he discovered the still-clothed boy wrenching at the doorknob futilely.

"Stop that," he told him irritably.  Green eyes fixated upon him.  "I already informed you that you won't be leaving except by my will."

The boy did not appear to care for the terms of confinement.  Indeed, he darted across to the window and had it halfway open before Severus managed to seal off those exits as well.

"Boy," he growled as they circled each other around the room, "you will either take off those clothes and get into that bath on your own, or I will do it for you!"

The boy only stared at him, wide-eyed. Severus gritted his teeth.

An eternity - and several bruises - later, he finally managed to dump the wriggling, naked boy into the bath.  The child spluttered and splashed until Severus eventually pinned him to one end of the bath with his arm.  With his free hand he started scrubbing vigorously at the boy's skin with a washcloth.  The intensity of his ministrations slowly diminished as he came to realise that not all the shadows on the child's flesh were evidence of dirt.  The bruises he had expected, and perhaps the odd scar or two aside from the one on his forehead.  He had not expected the multitude of markings scattered across the emaciated body of the child, buried as they had been beneath more layers of clothing than he had thought possible.

He blinked to find he'd stopped in his motions.  The boy was sitting very still, watching him out of the corner of one eye.

"Finish the rest yourself," he ordered, pressing the washcloth into the boy's hand.  "I will be back shortly.  I expect to see you clean and dry by then."

He hesitated at the locked door before summoning his house elf, Nippy, to obtain his needs instead of leaving the room.  A healing salve soothed the bites the child had inflicted earlier, while a change of clothes improved his demeanour slightly.  A quick word to Nippy ensured that by the time the boy was out of the bath some of his old robes were unpacked from storage and made ready for the boy, and that a meal was brought up for them both.

Fortunately, getting the child out of the bath was not nearly so arduous a task as getting him in, once Severus made it clear that he would be wearing the robes provided and not the travesties he had worn previously.  The lure of dinner afforded a valuable incentive in gaining the boy's compliance to his wishes, so much so that by the time the Albus Dumbledore appeared the child seemed almost civilized.

Almost.

He offered the elderly wizard a ferocious glare as soon as he entered the room.  The old man was unfazed by the child's expression, however, as he was more concerned with the boy's physical appearance.

"Surely it can't be," he murmured, bending towards the boy and reaching out to brush his fringe aside.  The child flinched back and scrambled out of his chair, but not before the Hogwarts Headmaster had seen the telltale sign for himself.

"Oh, it is," Severus assured him in a distinctly understated tone.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore addressed the child by name.  The boy remained silent and suspicious.  "We've been missing you for several years, now.  We had feared you dead.  Wherever did Severus find you?"

"Picking my pocket, off Essentia Alley."

"How happily fortuitous."

"Indeed," Severus agreed sullenly, remembering only now the money pouch he had left behind in his haste.

During this exchange the boy's eyes narrowed further, his posture shifting slightly as his muscles tensed.  Severus flicked his wand at the door to renew the locking spell.  The green eyes darkened accusingly.  Their actions did not pass unnoticed by the aging Headmaster.

"Harry," he spoke softly, seating himself in the chair the boy had vacated.  "We will not harm you.  We wish to take care of you.  You are a very special boy."  Severus snorted quietly at this, while disbelief was stamped across the child's face.  "We lost track of you six years ago, after you were involved in a train accident.  Do you remember that?  Can you tell me what happened to you after that crash?"

The boy pursed his lips together more tightly than ever.

"He hasn't spoken a word since I stumbled across him," Severus informed Albus quietly.  The elderly wizard frowned in concern.

"Well," he hummed as he considered the matter, blue eyes slightly shadowed, despite their obvious delight in seeing the boy.  "I suppose we will all need time to adjust to one another," he mused.  "You will be able to accommodate him while we sort matters out, Severus?"  

Black eyes glared at the Headmaster darkly at the request, yet Severus found himself nodding nevertheless.

"It shouldn't be long before you are safe at Hogwarts, young Harry," the Headmaster continued, but the boy's gaze was fixed firmly on the man behind him.  

Meeting the boy's challenging eyes for the umpteenth time that day, Severus couldn't help but wonder who it was that had cursed him to live an interesting life.  His only consolation was that he was not alone in his affliction - and that misery loved company.  It suited his day only too well.


*** *** ***

2. This is your life

Any hopes Severus had held of having a restful and restorative summer away from the never-ending trials and tribulations of Hogwarts and its inhabitants were thoroughly shattered by his haphazard discovery of the eleven-year-old waif more commonly known to the rest of the world as the Boy Who Lived.  As far as Severus was concerned, 'That Dratted Boy Who Can Bite Like A Demon' would have been a more appropriate title for his unappreciative houseguest.

The conflict between them had continued the morning after their impromptu meeting when Severus had entered the boy's room only to discover it seemingly devoid of the boy himself.  His already foul mood plummeted further when his brief pause to curse under his breath at his misfortune allowed the child to dart out from behind the door and slip past him into the corridor.  

He took vindictive pleasure in the frustration on the boy's face when the new wards held, denying him the escape he sought so desperately through a side door.  His satisfaction lasted no longer than the amount of time it took for the boy to dash down the corridor and hide himself in the depths of the manor's unused rooms.  Even with Nippy's help it had taken the better part of the day to corner the brat.  At that point Severus had slipped one of his mother's charm bracelets on the boy's wrist - costing him yet another set of teeth-marks - and shrunk it so that even the aspiring Houdini couldn't remove it.  He wondered - with clenched jaw - if that was indeed who the boy had been named after.

The charmed bracelet allowed Severus to keep track of his charge by means of a couple of spells as well as the jingling sound it made as the golden charms clinked against one another.  The boy tried his best to muffle the sound in his sleeves, but his peculiar magic-reflecting trick failed to completely smother the tracing and summoning spells cast on the charms.  Severus didn't really believe that the protective spells would be needed as long as the boy's spell-repellent nature held true, but he activated and tested them as best he could nevertheless.  Murphy was a long-standing acquaintance, after all.

Albus returned shortly after the ruckus that ended the impromptu game of Hide and Go Seek had been settled in Severus' favour.  The old wizard raised an eyebrow at the rumpled states of both professor and child, but fortunately made no comment; Severus would have been forced to kill him by means of his deadliest glare if he had.  The Headmaster's suggestion to use the Floo network to transport the boy to Hogsmeade nearly earned him the same fate, anyway.

"Absolutely not," he snarled.  "I am _not_ going to be chasing this brat all over Britain - which is what will happen if the wretched child is permitted access to the network."  It was simple enough to get lost by accident in the maze of fireplaces that connected wizarding Britain.  It would be child's play for someone who wanted to escape as badly as Potter apparently did.  "Bring Minerva and Poppy here if you have to, but I will not be the one responsible for losing the Boy Who Lived a second time."

"Very well," Albus agreed reluctantly, and called them through the fireplace.  Severus kept an iron grip on the scrawny boy's shoulder as the Floo connection flared green for their arrival.  The boy responded with a scowl worthy of Severus himself.

"Oh!" Minerva strode forward, her hand outstretched as though to touch the boy to confirm his existence in her mind.  The child leaned away from her until he bumped into Severus.  Caught between the two professors, his expression showed that he was not a particularly happy boy.  Fortunately, Minerva took the scowl as the hint it was and lowered her hand before she actually touched him, merely peering down at him with eager eyes instead.  Madam Pomfrey wasn't so forbearing.

"My goodness," she murmured as she poked and prodded at the child.  Severus could feel the tension building in the small body, pulling the boy backwards before he could otherwise flee the overly attentive nurse's ministrations.

"Enough of that!"

"I need to examine him!"

"Perhaps," the Headmaster interjected, "we could all sit down for a nice soothing cup of tea first." 

Severus would have preferred solitude and a bottle of port.  Afternoon tea would be better for his stomach, however, especially since breakfast had been light and lunch non-existent.  He frowned at the boy sitting stiffly on the sofa beside him as Nippy laid out refreshments for everyone; he hadn't eaten at all that day as far as Severus was aware, and was making eyes at the fruitcake had appeared on the side table.

"Do have some cake," Albus urged the child as he made himself quite at home and nabbed the second biggest slice.  Yet the boy wouldn't accept the plate offered to him by the obliging Professor McGonagall; nor would he respond to Poppy's attempts.

"Here," Severus snatched at the plate and placed it on the sofa between them.  "Eat it or starve, boy."  Collecting his own slice, he kept watch out of the corner of his eye as the boy slowly began to nibble away at the other.  Minerva looked on nonplussed, while Poppy frowned and Albus pretended their behaviour was nothing unusual.  Severus gave a passing thought to crumbs on the sofa before dismissing the idea: given the fastidious manner in which the boy was clearing his plate, Severus doubted that Nippy would need to clean up any crumbs from the sofa later on.

"Well," the Headmaster said at last, when Severus was finishing his third slice of cake.  The boy was on his fourth - and his second cup of tea, as well.  "Let us begin, shall we?  Harry?"

Apparently the cake still held far more fascination than anything the elderly wizard might say.

"Boy!" Severus snapped, and was satisfied to see the child's attention shift abruptly in response.  He was not quite so pleased when the boy continued to stare unblinkingly at him.

"Honestly, Severus," Minerva scolded.  "He does have a name."

"He responds well enough to 'boy'," he replied witheringly, still focussed on his staring contest.  

"Harry?" Albus called the boy again, with a similar lack of response.  "Boy?"  The green eyes finally redirected from Severus to the Headmaster.  "Ah."  The old man frowned behind his beard, while the witches exchanged a meaningful glance.

"What do you know of magic, child?" Albus tried again, and was met with a wall of silence. 

"He knows enough to get into Diagon Alley," Severus muttered darkly.  "And use the Floo connection."  Albus ignored him and pressed on.

"I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he informed the boy seriously.  Green eyes gazed at him as unblinkingly as they had stared at Severus.  "Your parents attended this school, and a place has been reserved for you in this year's class.  Severus - or Professor Snape, I should say - teaches Potions there.  Professor McGonagall teaches Transfiguration, while Madam Pomfrey is our nurse."  He indicated each of the witches in turn, and the child's eyes narrowed as he re-examined them briefly.  "While the existence of magic has been hidden from the muggle - that is, non-magical - population for several centuries, now, the magical world is still very much a thriving part of Britain.

"Ten years ago wizarding communities of Britain were threatened by the presence of a powerful wizard known as Lord Voldemort.  He attacked those who opposed him, decimating the wizarding population.  Your family was the last of those attacked.  Sadly, your parents died in the struggle; yet Lord Voldemort was gravely injured when he tried to hurt you, the result of your parents' sacrifice."  The old man's bright blue eyes lingered upon the boy's forehead.

"You were sent to live with your mother's sister and her family.  We had hoped you would have a peaceful childhood with them, away from the dangers of the magical world.  Regrettably, this was not to be."  He leaned forward slightly, holding the child's eyes with his own.  "We had placed a watcher nearby to ensure your safety as you grew.  However, we were unprepared when you and our family simply did not return to Privet Drive one day.  Several days passed before we were able to discover that the Dursleys had perished in a muggle railway disaster.  We searched through muggle police and hospital records for you, but were unable to find any sign that you had been on the train with them.  Nor were our magical attempts to locate you any more successful - which, I believe, may have something to do with the peculiar protection Severus has informed me that you possess.  I would like to examine the protective shield, if you don't mind."

The child's face was blanker than an empty blackboard.  It screamed to Severus that the boy did indeed mind, but wasn't sure what he could do about it, other than - 

He swore and took off after the jingling charms, leaving behind two startled witches and one bemused wizard.  Of course, their spindly old legs would never allow them to catch up with the brat themselves...  Severus snorted even as he uttered the summoning charm which _should_ have drawn the boy back to him.  It didn't, of course - but it did slow him down just a trifle.

The rest of the afternoon proved to Severus that the old saying 'Children should be seen but not heard' was clearly flawed.  While he did not particularly care for noisy brats who shouted conversations and stampeded everywhere they went, at least then he knew where they were, what they were up to, and could sneak up on them to deliver appropriate retribution.  Silence by no means assured a tractable child, and his new charge was most definitely demonstrating the point.

Albus thankfully saw reason and limited himself to the most rudimentary investigation of the boy - once Severus had corralled him back into the parlour.  Madam Pomfrey, however, was far more belligerent and insisted upon attempting to conduct a thorough examination of the boy's physical condition.  For the most part she failed miserably.  The child simply would not tolerate her poking and prodding, and any magical tests were dubious at best, with results ranging from the spell being reflected, absorbed, nullified, or - on the odd occasion - within normal parameters.  

After an exhausting two hours, Madam Pomfrey bowed to the inevitable, and ceased the torture.  Her simple conclusion was that aside from the numerous scars scattered over his body, he was suffering from malnutrition - hardly a surprise - and very likely astigmatism as bad as his father's had been.  This last was her primary cause for concern, as he seemed to be instinctually compensating for his poor eyesight with his magic - a dangerous activity for an experienced wizard, let alone an untrained child.  Yet until there was little she could do due to the boy's defences remaining at high alert.  He didn't seem to be able to lower the barrier, even if he had been willing.  Which he wasn't.

"Alright," Albus sighed as he slowly pushed himself up from his armchair.  "I believe we should adjourn until we have had some time to research this phenomenon.  I will arrange transportation to Hogwarts for you on the morrow, Harry."  The child glared sullenly at him from his seat on the sofa.  The Headmaster apparently considered this consent, and turned his eyes to the Potions master.  "I apologise for the further disruption to your holidays, Severus, but it might be best if you join us at Hogwarts, at least until young Harry settles in."

With the better part of a month remaining before he would ordinarily return to Hogwarts Castle, Severus could only hope the boy would 'settle in' as swiftly as possible.  He began to mentally pack his trunks even as the other three adults took the Floo back to Hogsmeade.

Loathe as he was to leaving the boy on his own for a second night, he had no wish to lose any sleep watching over the little brat.  This proved to be a futile optimism as he woke shortly before dawn knowing that the wards had just been broken - and that Harry Potter was no longer in the manor.


*** *** ***

3. Cat and Mouse

He was rather surprised to discover the boy had managed to make his way back into the heart of muggle London.  How this feat was accomplished, he wasn't quite sure.  He _was_ sure that he was going to murder the brat when he finally caught up with him.  Three hours spent going this way and that on the stiflingly hot underground amidst a crowd of irritable people did not make Severus Snape a happy man.

He was also unpleasantly aware that the locator charm on the bracelet could fail at any moment.  The house wards had not lasted two days.  The boy had been wearing the bracelet for over a day.  This was not an encouraging thought, and hence he was forced to follow the urchin as closely as he could without actually apparating on top of him.  The impromptu tour of London was not appreciated.

The pursuit ended at last in London's west, at a small playground beside a row of houses adjacent to an industrial estate.  There, the trail vanished.

Silently cursing the unseen boy, Severus cast an observant eye at his surroundings.  The playground was empty - the swings hung empty and forlorn, the elephant on a spring gazing mournfully back at him. There were no people in sight at all, in fact, only the occasional muggle automobile as it passed by on the main road.  The sound of a violin drifted through the air from a nearby window.  All else was still.

"Mreow!"

Severus looked down to find a grey striped cat looking up at him with slitted green eyes.  It blinked up at him lazily.

"Mreow," it said again.

"I don't suppose you've seen the brat, either," Severus commented, sardonically.  It blinked again, and stood, prowling gracefully between the playground and the first house into thin air.

It was Severus' turn to blink.  Frowning contemplatively, he squinted at the spot where he had last seen the cat.  There was the faintest flicker of magic in the air.  A revelation spell revealed nothing.  His frown turned into a glare.

"Mreow?"  The cat appeared once more, looking back at him as though query what was taking so long.  _Now_ Severus could see the outlines of another building as it squashed the playground and house aside to make room for itself.  The cat sat itself down on the doorstep and watched him, its tail twitching.

He moved cautiously towards the house, his senses alert for any sign of the boy.  The voice that carried faintly from within, however, was harsh with age.

"...thought you dead, boy.  Dead!  Do you think they'd care that you're only a youngling?  They'd think you all the tastier for it!"

"Granny!" a young girl squealed in horror.

"He shouldn't have gone alone!"

"But your leg!"

"My leg would have lasted - " the old woman broke off abruptly.  "What's this?" she asked, after a brief pause, her tones becoming increasingly shrill.  "Where did you get this?  Did someone give this to you?  Do you have any idea of what this could _do_ to us?"  

Severus peered through the gap in the curtains in time to see a woman bent with age limping as she dragged the Potter brat down a hallway by the wrist.  The charm bracelet was rather conspicuous, glinting on his bared arm.  A teenaged girl followed them down the hall, still squealing in dismay.

Making his decision, Severus opened the door, locked it behind him, and rushed after them, his wand at the ready.  He was just in time to summon the cleaver from the old woman's hand as she brought it crashing down towards the boy's wrist.

For a single moment time appeared to stand still.

The old woman screamed furiously and rushed at Severus, clawing at his face and hands with her fingernails.  He raised his wand to stun her, but was instantly hampered by the brat once again sinking his teeth where they didn't belong.  In pain and frustration he struck the woman with his free hand, knocking her to the floor.  The girl scampered across to her, huddling over the fallen woman's upper body in a tight ball, still screaming incoherently.  

"Stay where you are!"

Severus glared furiously towards the darkened corner from which the command had been issued, the brat's teeth still clamped painfully onto his wrist.  The retort on the tip of his tongue stilled abruptly as he recognised the muggle firearm pointed at him as a threat.

"Who are you?" the voice from the shadows demanded.  "What do you want with us?"

"I _want_ this brat to stop biting me!" Severus snapped without thinking.

"Mouse," said the voice after a moment's consideration, in a slightly exasperated yet still wary tone .

The brat reluctantly withdrew, crouching protectively in front of the now sobbing girl and the dazed old woman.  Severus glanced at his wrist, confirming that the boy had indeed drawn blood.  'Mouse', the voice had called him.  'Rabid rat' would have been more appropriate in Severus' opinion.

"I repeat: who are you and what do you want with us?"  

Severus turned his sharp eyes towards the corner, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light.  The shadowy figure seemed to be seated, accounting for his lack of height.  The voice sounded too young to belong to a fully grown man, but it was carefully controlled and calm, a contrast to the hysteria of the woman and girl.

"However fast you are with that wand, it's difficult to perform magic with a bullet lodged in your heart."

"I mean no harm," Severus answered carefully, gathering his scattered control tightly to himself.  The youth had recognised him as a wizard, but not as a Hogwarts professor.  The youth had either been schooled elsewhere, or was a squib.  In either case, it made the weapon he held no less dangerous.

"Then answer my questions."  A slight tremor, almost indiscernible.  He was starting to let his anxiety show. 

"My name is Severus Snape.  I am a professor at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.  I have come for Harry Potter."

Another pause.  "There is no Harry Potter here."

Severus frowned.  It was either a pitiful attempt to deceive him or the youth truly had no idea that this brat was the saviour of the wizarding world.   "I beg to differ.  The boy who just bit me is indeed Harry Potter."

"How do you know that?"  

"Aside from the fact that I spent seven years at school with the brat's father, whom he markedly resembles, his scar is unmistakeable!"  Severus was rapidly losing what little patience he had.

"His scar?  Which scar?"  Faint surprise and curiosity was evident in the youth's tone. 

"The entire wizarding world knows about the scar on the forehead of the Boy-Who-Lived!" Severus snarled. 

"You," the old woman was stirring.  "I know you...  Death Eater!"  She struggled with the girl who clung to her, trying to stand and attack Severus once again.

"Gran, wait!"

The woman paid little attention until a wheeled chair rolled out of the darkened corner, and a teenaged boy laid his free hand on her forearm.  His other hand was fully occupied in keeping his gun levelled at Severus.  

"Don't listen to his lies!" the woman wailed, clutching at the boy's hand abruptly, while the girl tangled herself with them both.  The distraction was enough to allow Severus to lunge forward and seize hold of the weapon in the boy's hand.  A single shot fired into the ceiling before he wrested full control from the boy, who slumped forward in his chair.  The girl resumed her screaming.  'Mouse' bit him once again.

"WILL YOU STOP DOING THAT?!!" Severus yelled, infuriated, at the green-eyed whelp who simply glared back and clamped his jaw down harder.  He barely noticed when the other boy sat up straight, fixated as he was upon the younger boy.  He regretted that lack of attention when he heard the boy's next word, directed as it was along the length of his own wand.

"_Stupefy_!"


*** *** ***

He was having trouble breathing, his chest straining to accommodate enough oxygen to supply his waking mind.  The explanation for this difficulty was apparent as soon as he managed to open his eyes: the brat was sitting on his chest, peering down at him with a strange blend of curiosity and satisfaction.

"Get off," he tried to say, only to have silence greet his ears.  The brat's mouth twitched suspiciously.  He tried to sit up and push the brat off, but discovered that his wrists and ankles had been bound to various fixtures.

The brat was definitely smirking at him.

Movement off to one side made him turn his head in time to see the teenage boy move his chair over to them.  He still held a wand in his hand, but closer examination showed that it was not Severus'.  A touch of his hand to Potter's shoulder and the younger boy thankfully moved from Severus' chest to the floor.

"I am going to take the silencing spell off you," said the boy.  "You _will_ answer my questions, or you will face my grandmother's wrath."

Severus nodded his acceptance.  He could hear the old woman muttering dire imprecations from elsewhere in the room, out of his line of sight.  The boy at least sounded sane in contrast.

"_Finite incantatem_," the boy pronounced carefully, focussing intently on Severus' mouth.  "Now, how did you find us?"

"I followed Potter to this street, then the cat to your house."

"Hah!" the old woman exclaimed, only to be hushed by her grandson.  Potter looked slightly guilty.

"Oh, Barnabas, how could you?" the girl, also out of view, sighed pitifully.  

"Mreow," was her only reply.

The boy looked thoughtfully off to the side for a moment before asking, "Are you a Death Eater?"

"No," said Severus, glossing over the qualifications that answer entailed.

"Oh yes you are!" shouted the grandmother.  "I know you, boy, I saw you there that night!"

"Which night?" he wanted to know.  There was a sudden hush.

"Do you know who we are?" the boy asked seriously, his expression intense.

"No - " Severus started, only to be struck silent by the familiarity of the boy's pallid features.  "Your face is familiar."

"See!  I told you!"

"Gran!"  He turned back as she settled into seething quiet once more.  "My name is Christopher Bones."

Severus stared at him, the name prompting recognition.  "You're supposed to be dead."

"I'm not.   _We're_ not."

"And we'll see _you_ dead before we let you betray us - "

"Gran, please!"

"You've been in hiding for the past ten years?" Severus sought confirmation.  

"Eleven."

"You didn't know that the Dark Lord had been defeated?"

Silence.

Both the boys' faces were blank.  Even the old woman was speechless - momentarily.

"You're lying!  You're trying to trick us!"

"I am _not_ lying.  He was defeated almost ten years ago.  _You_ know this already," he said brusquely to the Potter boy.  "Professor Dumbledore explained it to you yesterday."

 The brat simply blinked, then tried to look innocent under the weight of the Bones' collective gaze.

"You spoke with Professor Dumbledore?" the old woman queried in a slightly bewildered voice.  "He told you everything was all right?" 

Potter shrugged and nodded in response.

Bones looked at the brat solemnly before returning his attention to Severus.  "We will have to verify this," he said gravely.  "In the meantime - " he raised his wand.  

Severus rolled his eyes.  

"_Stupefy_."


*** *** ***

4. Speech is Silver

"Severus?"

He blinked open his eyes, stared at the cheerful smile that greeted him and promptly shut them fast again.

"Come now, Severus, you've had plenty of rest already today, I daresay."

"Rest?" he snarled, his eyes popping involuntarily open.  "Today I have been forced to follow that brat across half of London, then viciously attacked when attempting to save his hide, and stupefied for my concern!  Just how is that considered 'rest', Headmaster?"

"Oh, that was _yesterday_," Dumbledore informed him with a damnable twinkle in his eye.  "Helen has assured me that you have been sleeping quite soundly since the little misunderstanding yesterday afternoon."

"_'Little misunderstanding'?_"  The edge to Severus' voice could have cut steel.  

"Indeed.  Eileen was quite shocked to learn that Voldemort had been defeated a year after she took her grandchildren into hiding.  Young Christopher seems to be taking things in his stride - metaphorically speaking, that is.  I'm afraid Madam Pomfrey doesn't hold much hope that the damage to his spine may be healed.  A shame, but he copes admirably well - "

"Headmaster," Severus interrupted, pushing himself up from the bed.  "The brat - "

"I assume you mean Harry," Albus chastised him with an admonishing glance.  Severus ground his teeth, trying not to feel like a First Year caught pulling faces at the portraits.   "He is sitting with Christopher and Helen in the kitchen, having morning tea.  Would you care to join them?"

Black eyes glared.  "He hasn't tried to run off again?"

"Why should he run?" Dumbledore inquired merrily.  "This has been his home for the better part of three years, according to Christopher."

"Three years, and they didn't manage to make him take regular baths?" Severus asked incredulously as he climbed out of bed, straightening his clothes.  He felt his own need for a bath quite keenly.  Fortunately the Headmaster handed him his wand, enabling him to mutter a mild cleansing spell.  While not as satisfying as a proper bath, he wouldn't be on his way to smelling like the brat had, either.

"Well," Albus frowned slightly, "he seems to have an aversion to water that none of the Bones can explain."

"What precisely _can_ they explain about him?"

"Why don't we go down and ask them?" the Headmaster proposed.  Various methods of information-gathering promptly crossed Severus' mind.  Pity most of them were illegal.  Dumbledore would never approve.

The three children were having tea and biscuits at the kitchen table when Severus and Dumbledore entered the room.  The girl, Helen, flinched at the sight of Severus, before nervously smiling at the Headmaster.  Christopher simply nodded in greeting, and gestured to a pair of empty chairs.  The brat took one look before resuming nibbling at his biscuit.  

"Do they call you 'Mouse' because of the way you eat?" Severus inquired after watching the boy for several moments.

Green eyes flicked briefly between Severus and Christopher before settling back on his biscuit. 

"Partly.  Mostly we call him that because he's so quiet," Bones answered for him.  "Not just because he rarely talks, but he's just generally quiet."

"Silence is golden, Granny says," Helen contributed timidly before lowering her gaze to her lap, where Severus could practically sense her wringing her hands.

"Indeed.  He _does_ speak, when he's so inclined, then?"

"If he has to," Christopher shrugged.

"Perhaps one day he will deem us worthy of hearing his wondrous words," Severus drawled.

The boy finished his biscuit before turning to the professor and gesturing rudely.  Smirking, he helped himself to another biscuit.

"Now, Harry," the Headmaster reproved him gently.  "You should be polite to your teachers.  If you behave in this manner at Hogwarts, you will be punished for your lack of respect." 

Potter dropped his biscuit at the word 'punished'.  By the end of the sentence, he was halfway to the door.  The only thing preventing him from escaping the room - and indeed the house - was Severus' tight grip on the back of his layered shirts.

"Don't even think about it," the wizard growled, yanking the boy back to the table.  Young limbs folded themselves back down onto the chair, where Potter crouched like a frog about to leap to freedom.  "I sincerely doubt that anything the Headmaster would deem punishment as torturous as you seem to believe."

"I apologise for frightening you," said Dumbledore, observing the boy keenly.  "At Hogwarts students who misbehave may lose house points or be given detention.  While detentions may be arduous at times, you need not fear them."

Severus glared darkly at the Headmaster, who had seriously reduced the value of any threat of punishment for the boy at Hogwarts.  Potter's sharp eyes noticed his seething dissatisfaction, and the boy had the impertinence to smirk at him as he settled down onto the seat properly.

"When will we be going to Hogwarts, sir?" Bones inquired.  "What will happen with Gran?"

"Your aunts and uncle have expressed their desire to meet with you, your sister and your grandmother.  You may either see them at Hogwarts, or visit their home as you so desire.  Afterwards, you will be assessed by various Hogwarts professors to determine your skill levels in their subjects, and placed in appropriate classes."

"Mouse, as well?"

"Yes, Harry will also be assessed and sorted."

There was a soft snort that Severus almost missed, and Potter frowned at his tea.

"He doesn't like that name."

"Pardon?" Dumbledore twinkled.

"Mouse.  He doesn't like being called 'Harry'."

"It is the name your parents gave you," the Headmaster spoke directly to the boy in question.  "Why don't you like it?"  

Potter ignored him, sipping delicately at his tea.

Dumbledore looked to the Bones for an explanation, but Christopher simply shrugged, while Helen hunched lower in her seat.

"How did you meet the boy?" Severus inquired of the brother and sister, noting out of the corner of his eye the almost imperceptible frown on said boy's lips.  Christopher darted quick glances around the table, but his sister had no such qualms in answering.

"Barnabas brought him home!" she declared, flashing a quick smile at them all before ducking her head again.

"Barnabas?" Dumbledore queried the unfamiliar name, his brows raised.

"The cat," Severus answered in chorus with Barnabas' own "Mreow!" from the doorway.

"Ah," said the Headmaster as the cat brushed past his legs, purring loudly.  "Part kneazle, I believe?"  Helen nodded as he leapt into her lap, pointing out his slightly tufted tail.  She cradled him as he inspected the group at the table with bright green eyes.  "A very intelligent fellow."

"He was our secret keeper," Christopher informed them.  Dumbledore nodded while Severus tried to work out how on earth they managed to accomplish that.  Perhaps there was method behind Granny Bones apparent madness.

"What's that _murderer_ doing in my home?" 

Turning to the hallway where McGonagall was restraining the old lady, Severus revised his opinion.  The woman was several twigs short of a broom, no doubt about it.

"Eileen, please calm down!  We've been through this before.  Severus Snape is a trusted professor at Hogwarts.  He could not possibly have been there the night you were - "

"Murderer!" Granny Bones shrieked, ignoring the Deputy Headmistress.

"Mistress Bones!  I promise you that Severus was not involved in the attack on your family," Dumbledore assured her in tones that brooked no disagreement.  Granny Bones subsided in confusion.

"Oh," she said.  "I thought I saw..."

"It's all right, dear," McGonagall comforted her.  "Now let's have that cup of tea."

Severus pointedly did not look at the unsettled woman as his colleague seated her next to her granddaughter.  Helen hurriedly poured tea for the two ladies, tumbling Barnabas to the floor in her haste.  The cat prowled under the table and unceremoniously climbed Severus' legs.

"Mreow," he said determinedly.

About to shove the cat aside, Severus caught sight of Potter's nonplussed expression.  He made a point of petting the creature in his lap, enjoying how the brat's face darkened when it started purring contentedly.  Observing his amusement, Potter directed a scowl into his teacup, folding his arms across his chest.  

"Barnabas has always been a good judge of character," Christopher said quietly, watching the interaction with solemn eyes.  Severus produced a scowl of his own, while Potter shuddered.  Helen rushed out of the room, returning with a blanket that she wrapped around the boy's shoulders.  Severus' brows rose in disbelief, even as the boy clutched it close.

"Miss Bones, it is the middle of summer, and quite warm."

"Oh," she said, her eyes wide as she backed up a pace.  "It's just... Mouse gets cold easily..."

"Does he now?" the Headmaster mused thoughtfully, stroking his beard.  "Perhaps it would be best if we continued our discussion at Hogwarts.  I will notify your relatives to meet us there."

Eyeing the brat carefully, Severus had to agree.  Susceptibility to cold was only one of the symptoms indicative of overuse of magic, but it was better to be safe than sorry, especially after the effort that he'd put into finding the boy.  While the boy hadn't seemed unduly chilled when he had come into contact with him previously, it would be in keeping with the boy's instinctual use of magic - as well as the overabundance of clothing he wore.  The protective magical ambience of Hogwarts would alleviate any damage the boy was unknowingly inflicting upon himself, even if Madam Pomfrey was unsuccessful in treating him.
 
The younger Bones were more than willing to leave their prison-like home behind, with the girl running this way and that collecting items they couldn't possibly do without while Christopher calmly directed from his chair, with the judicious aid of his wand.  Their grandmother took more convincing, but ultimately Dumbledore and McGonagall were victorious, and successfully collected Bones and belongings and one well-wrapped orphan boy carrying a cat in the kitchen ready for departure.

The Headmaster's portkey deposited them on the banks of the lake, where the first years would customarily take the boats across to the school.

"I thought you might like the traditional first look at Hogwarts," Dumbledore beamed at the awed faces of the younger Bones as they took in their surroundings.  The view was quite lost on Potter, however, who took one look at the lake and promptly dropped Barnabas to clutch at Severus' waist.

"Mreow!"  Unconcerned, Barnabas stalked down to the shoreline to watch the boats the Headmaster had summoned swiftly make their way across the still waters of the lake.

"_Scared_, boy?"

Affronted green eyes met his briefly before the boy detached himself and eyed the arriving boats with trepidation.

"If you're too frightened to cross the lake in a boat, you may walk around it.  We won't bother to keep lunch for you.  You might make it in time for dinner, however."

The comments earned him another glare, and sent the boy marching down the slope and scrambling into the first boat to touch the shore.  The Headmaster levitated Christopher into a second boat, chair and all, while McGonagall assisted Granny Bones into a third.  The old woman was rambling again, this time on her memories of crossing the lake so many decades ago.  Helen scooped up Barnabas to place him in Christopher's boat.  All was proceeding quite well - until Potter's boat suddenly shot off towards Hogwarts.

"Oh dear," said the Headmaster, who had just been pointing the way for Christopher.  

Swearing under his breath Severus claimed the last boat and set off after the runaway boat and child.  He had almost caught up when the pale-faced boy's boat passed under the ivy veil and into the dark tunnel beyond.  When Severus' boat entered the illuminated harbour, the boy's boat was drifting aimlessly.  The boy himself was nowhere in sight.  Sure that the boy was already wreaking havoc upstairs in the castle, he almost missed the glint of gold below the surface.

Thrusting one long arm into the water, he managed to grasp hold of the boy's wrist, dragging him up out of the water and into the boat.  Not satisfied with merely being out of the water, the boy almost fell in again whilst climbing over Severus to reach the safety of the rocky shore.  He half-crawled, half shuffled over to the wall where he remained, shivering, as Severus disembarked somewhat more gracefully.

He stood over the child, frowning for a moment before pulling out his wand and casting a drying charm on the boy's clothes, prepared for a rebound that never occurred.  The boy blinked at him, still trembling, but no longer dripping.   Severus added a warming charm, and was rewarded with a glimpse of colour returning to the boy's cheeks.  Satisfied he had done his duty, he turned aside to dry his own clothes, and wait for the others to arrive.

"Th-th-than-k-k-y-you."

Black eyes regarded the boy solemnly, noting his flushed cheeks and almost defiant gaze.

"You're welcome," he murmured.

The boy blinked, and smiled.


*** *** ***

5. A Rose by Any Other Name

The boy's eyes hadn't left the ceiling from the moment they'd entered the Great Hall.  Severus had almost decided that the boy's head was now locked in that position when lunch was served.  The boy tore his gaze away from the magical sky in order to cautiously poke and prod at a couple of dishes, and sip at his goblet of pumpkin juice - all of which were promptly abandoned upon the arrival of the Bones contingent.

In Severus' experience, family gatherings were roughly equivalent to being subjected to a fleeting cruciatus curse.  It did not seem that the current occasion, with several teary-eyed women already wailing at each other, would convince him otherwise.  Rising from the table, he deliberately did not look at Dumbledore as he stalked towards the open doors.  Only upon reaching them did he make his mistake - glancing back at the throng, only to be mesmerized by the sight of the boy easing his slight form alongside the table away from the Bones, even as his eyes remained fixed upon them.

Swearing under his breath, Severus marched back up the length of the Hall towards the seemingly oblivious Headmaster, who was engaged in conversation with one Amelia Bones.

"Headmaster," he spoke in low tones, when he had managed to capture the man's attention, "I will start assessing the Potter boy's capabilities now.  There is no sense in delaying, as he has no family with which to reacquaint himself."

"There are other people besides family who wish to renew old friendships, Severus," the old man twinkled at him, nodding back to where the boy was still slinking into the shadows.   Severus blinked as he realised what was causing one of the shadows, a sense of foreboding rising within him.

"'Arry!"  Hogwarts' enormous Groundskeeper lumbered towards the tiny lad, who stared up at him with green eyes the only visible colour in his pale face.  "You was jus' a lil' tyke the las' time I saw yah!  Now look at yah!"

Severus raised his wand an instant too late.  The doors slammed shut just behind the boy's retreating form, while Hagrid blinked bemusedly at the empty air his huge hands held.  A hush blanketed the hall, as the Bones looked amongst one another for answers.

"Oh dear," said Dumbledore - and looked at Severus, who barely managed to swallow the curse that danced so temptingly upon the tip of his tongue.  Instead, he simply nodded curtly and made his way past the Bones once more, pausing briefly to glance at Christopher and Helen.  Christopher only shrugged his shoulders slightly, but Helen carefully placed Barnabas on the ground, whispering in the cat's ear.

"Barnabas will help you," she said shyly, before shrinking back to her brother's side.

Severus looked at the cat.  The cat looked at Severus.

"Mreow," said Barnabas, and trotted over to the doors to the Entrance Hall.  "Mreow!"

"Yes, yes," Severus muttered as he followed, pushing the doors open to enable the cat and himself to pass.  He briefly considered asking the portraits about the boy, but Barnabas was already heading off down a corridor at a rapid pace.  Lengthening his stride, he caught up with the feline in short order - and nearly tripped when the cat came to an abrupt halt.

Severus's lips quirked in amusement as he saw the reason why the cat had stopped - the boy was frantically trying to remove one foot from where it had sunk into the staircase.  It seemed the trick stairs that could be so very annoying at times had their uses after all. 

"Mreow!"  Barnabas darted up the stairs, winding himself around the boy's trapped leg.  The boy stopped his struggles to reach down to pet him, pausing briefly in mid-action before turning his head towards Severus, who met the doubled green gazes evenly as he climbed the stairs.  Brushing past the boy and cat, he turned a couple of steps above them, looking down on the pair from above, seated himself on a step, and waited.

The boy began to fidget.  Severus said nothing.  Resuming his struggles, the boy cast ever-darkening glares at the professor, who simple observed with a growing smirk on his lips.

"P-p-please!" the boy cried out at last, his face pink with frustration and embarrassment.

"Please what?"

The boy scowled.  "P-p-p-please, ow-out!"

"Students are to address their teachers with proper respect."

The scowl deepened.  "P-p-pr-prof- prof-"

"'Sir' will do, boy."

"Ss-ssir," the boy echoed sibilantly, his face flushed bright red. 

"I find it a curious thing," said Severus after a moment's pause, "that Hogwarts may trap a mouse where I could not."

The boy pursed his lips, and remained silent. 

"Back in the alley you repelled my attempts cast spells directly upon you, as you did Madam Pomfrey's diagnostic spells.  Yet here you are, held fast by a simple trick step.  Why is that, I wonder?"

"D-di-diff-diff-differrr-rrent."

Severus raised his eyebrows.

"Ssssirr."  The honorific was delivered in an exasperated hiss.

Severus considered the ramifications of his next question a moment before continuing.  "How is it different?" 

The boy blinked at him.

"You broke the wards preventing you from leaving my home."

The boy frowned, and shook his head.  "Ss-ssslow.  Old.  N-n-not _m-me_."

Severus was surprised to find that actually made sense.  In casting the new wards on his home, he had actually drawn upon the old existing magic that lay within its very foundations.  It made the new wards more durable than they would otherwise have been, with decades of established magical energies to reinforce them.  The wards were also not spells cast directly onto the boy himself, which therefore did not immediately confront the boy's rather impressive instinctive defences.

Similarly, the trick step was not trying to change the boy at all, merely holding him in place - and Hogwarts was far older than his own family home, with a thousand years of history behind it.  The boy could likely free himself from the step in time, but it would take several hours at the very least.

Reaching out, the professor tugged the boy's sleeve up to reveal the charm bracelet that still graced the thin wrist.

"This does not directly affect you either, and yet you have broken the tracking charm placed upon it.  How did you manage to accomplish that, little mouse?" 

The boy lifted his wrist, staring at the golden bracelet, then shook his head in denial, thrusting it out before him.

Frowning, Severus examined the charms one by one.  Each and every charm was still active - but the signal on the tracking charm had been repressed to the point where it was practically useless.  He returned his gaze to the boy with narrowed eyes.

"You can sense the magic."  It wasn't a question.  "Tell me what each of these charms is for."

The boy frowned for a moment before sighing heavily.  "F-f-find," he said, tapping the first charm with one finger before moving on to the next.  "S-ssafe.  Lu-lucky.  Ha-ha-ha-happy.  F-fr-friendsss.  Mo-mon-money.  H-h-home."

Severus nodded along with the identification of each, even as he wondered how the boy was able to sense and analyse the magic so easily.  "Now, return the locator charm to normal," he ordered, earning himself a sharp look.  Severus raised one eyebrow at him.  "Or perhaps, little mouse, you would prefer to chance waiting for hours the next time your paw is caught in a trap?" 

After due consideration, the boy resignedly focussed his attention on the specified charm.  Several minutes passed before he presented it for inspection again.  This time the charm responded as intended when Severus cast its counterpart.  It would easily suffice to locate the boy anywhere on Hogwarts grounds.  

Letting his wrist drop back to his side, the boy tugged at his leg irritably, and promptly fell forward onto Severus as the professor released him from the step.  
 
The boy's skin was icy upon his own.

"Didn't Mrs Bones ever teach you a warming spell?" the wizard grumbled as he set the boy on his feet and pulled out his wand.

"C-c-can't."  The boy's cheeks were pink once again - but still cold against the back of Severus' assessing hand.

"Why not?"

"C-can't d-do-do m-mmagic."

The professor stared at him incredulously.  "Don't be an imbecile.  You performed magic on that charm just now."

The boy's face screwed up in frustration.  He wrapped his arms around himself even as he shivered.  "C-c-can't s-ss-ssay w-w-wo-wor-wordsss!"

"Did I somehow become deaf when you said the words to make the locator charm work again?" Severus snarled in irritation.  "Use your head!  Magic is far more than words or wand waving - you've already proved that.  Just think of how the magic should be formed, and _do_ it!"

 Green eyes blinked up at him blankly, before narrowing in concentration.

"Mreow!"

The cat's cry snapped Severus' attention away from the boy's eyes in time to douse the flames that had started to dance across the boy's clothing with a flick of his wand.

"I say!" came the cry from a portrait nearby.  "What have we ever done to you?!"  Looking up, Severus discovered the portrait's frame to be slightly scorched, its inhabitant most affronted.

Frowning, he turned back to the boy who stood swaying in his charred clothes.  His own had a certain singed quality about them, as well.

"Perhaps a warm bath would have been better," he mused, brushing away ashes.

The boy blanched at the 'b' word, and promptly fainted.  Severus had to lunge forward awkwardly to stop him tumbling down the stairs.

"I suppose I brought that down on myself," he muttered sourly as he scooped the limp boy into his arms.

"Mreow," agreed Barnabas.

"Nobody asked you."


****


The solution for the boy's aversion to baths naturally created a new problem: the boy proved quite enamoured with the concept of a hot shower, to the point where he only abandoned it upon Severus' threat to transfigure it into a bath.  

"Sit there," the professor ordered when the boy emerged from the bathroom, a shrunken set of Severus' robes draped around him.  The boy obeyed, scuttling into the chair and perching upon it, peering at Severus expectantly.  A quill, inkpot and parchment were placed in front of him.

"Write about your first experience with magic, Mr Potter, in as much detail as you can manage."

The small hand froze in the process of reaching for the quill.  He looked up at Severus accusingly.

"You do know how to read and write, don't you, Potter?"

 "Mm-mouse."  Green eyes met his stubbornly.

Severus snorted.  "Amusing as it is to hear a Potter disowning his name, it _is_ your name.  If you can give me an adequate explanation as to why I should call you by something other than your name, I may consider it.  Until then, write."

The boy glared, but turned his attention towards the parchment, quill scratching erratically across it.  Severus stepped closer to read the childish script, and promptly wiped the parchment blank.

"While I do not expect miracles, _Potter_, I do expect obedience," he snapped.

"Do-don't remem-mem-mem - "  He shut his mouth fast and dropped the quill to the desk, curling his knees up beneath his chin and frowning furiously at the blank parchment.

Placing one hand on the desk, Severus leaned in close, staring at the boy until green eyes raised to meet his gaze.

"If you have something to say, _Potter_, then make use of whatever lies in that thick skull of yours and _write it down_!"

The boy blinked - and snaked his hand under the professor's arm to reclaim the fallen quill.  Slowly, Severus moved away, simply watching as the tip of the quill rested in mid-air just above the parchment.  The boy met his gaze briefly before once again starting to write - and this time write he did.  He was still writing when a house elf appeared to inform them that Dumbledore requested their presence in the Great Hall.
 
Dismissing the house elf, Severus turned to find the boy staring with wide eyes.

"That was a house elf.  They perform a number of duties around Hogwarts, including general housekeeping and preparation of meals, although they are not commonly observed whilst doing so."

The frozen expression on the boy's face gradually relaxed - until Severus held out his hand expectantly.  Once again apprehensive, the boy handed over his parchment, and then waited, massaging his hand surreptitiously.

The boy's handwriting was atrocious, to say the least, but not completely indecipherable.  He glanced through the first few lines, intending to read it more thoroughly after they had seen the Headmaster.  A few minutes later he found himself staring at the boy who was fiddling with his robes nervously.

"The Headmaster is waiting," he said, rolling the parchment up and placing it in his pocket.  He walked to the door, holding it open for the boy.  "Little mouse."

The boy's lips quirked, his brows furrowing lightly before he shrugged his shoulders and followed Severus up to the Great Hall.

The Bones' gathering had dwindled to no more than half a dozen - thankfully, old Mrs Bones was not included among them.  Christopher and Helen were still there, though, the boy wheeling his chair towards them when they entered.

"Mouse," he said, after darting a brief look at Severus.  "We're going to stay with our relatives, now.  Until school starts, at least.  Did you want to come with us?"

Mouse cast his lingering gaze across the waiting Bones family, then, fleetingly, at Severus before meeting Christopher's eyes once more.  Without looking, he reached out swiftly with one hand to simply touch Severus' arm before letting the hand fall by his side once more.  

Christopher nodded slowly, eying Severus carefully.  "We'll see you when school begins, then."

Helen darted forward to snatch Mouse up in a brief hug, enabling Christopher to ruffle the younger boy's hair before he escaped them both.  Smiling at them nonetheless, he wiggled his fingers in farewell, and watched as their family escorted them out of the hall.

Then he turned to Severus with expectant eyes.


****


6. Habit of a Lifetime

It was naturally the Headmaster's idea that Severus take Mouse back to Diagon Alley to purchase the articles he would need for his first year at Hogwarts.  Of course, the Headmaster himself was too preoccupied with other matters to accompany them, and the barmy old wizard was the only other member of the Hogwarts staff residing at the school during the summer who could successfully manage the boy's erratic behaviour.

After waving off his adopted family as bravely as any Gryffindor, Mouse had proceeded to live up to his name, hiding in corners and shadows from every strange new face.  Severus had finally hauled the boy in front of him for the remainder of his introductions to the staff and kept him there only by means of an iron grip.  This - and the threat of being sent to Granny Bones for a bath - proved sufficient for the evening, even when Hagrid returned for a second attempt at introducing himself.

"There now, Harry, I'm not that scary now, am I?" the half-giant had smiled gently, revealing a rather large number of rather large teeth.

"If you don't mind, little Mouse," Severus had drawled when his charge did not answer the Groundskeeper, "I would like to restore circulation to my hand sometime this evening."

Snatching his hand away from where it had been clamped onto Severus', Mouse's expression had barely twitched as he stomped on Severus' booted foot.

"That was extremely childish of you," the professor snapped, grabbing the boy by a shoulder and shaking him briefly. 

"Severus!" McGonagall had exclaimed in an outraged tone.  "In case it has escaped your noticed, Mr Potter is indeed a child.  _You_, however, are most certainly not!"

She'd moved swiftly forward to collect the boy by the elbow, only just managing to grab hold of his sleeve to drag him away from the potions master.  She had been unprepared for him to slip easily from her grasp, then turn to retaliate in his favourite method.

"My goodness!" she'd exclaimed again as Severus yanked him back by the scruff of his neck.

"You were saying, Minerva?" 

The incident had earned Mouse the label of 'wild boy' amongst the staff who had been present.  While it had endeared him to Hagrid, the others were more wary - at least of his teeth.  As Mouse was not enamoured by the sight of the huge man, Severus was consequently left to shepherd the boy through Diagon Alley on his own.

McGonagall had been almost as appalled by the boy's multiple layers of second-hand clothing as she had been by his feral behaviour, placing Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions high on their list.  Not having the patience to deal with the woman's pointed barbs regarding his own choice of clothing, Severus abandoned the boy in her tender care with a stern threat to stay put or else while he went to collect potion supplies for the both of them.  An hour later Severus was cursing his own stupidity as he followed the trail of the charm bracelet into Eeylops Owl Emporium.

"Did it occur to you that owls eat mice?" he queried as he peered at the bright green eyes blinking owlishly at him from under a large, tree-like perch on which half-a-dozen owls sat staring at him.  "I've half a mind to transfigure you into a real one and be done with you!"

Mouse's jaw set stubbornly.

Severus reached under the perch with one arm, intent on hauling the boy out.  Instead he found himself fighting off a barrage of snowy feathers to the accompanying sound of a young boy's laughter.

Twenty minutes later, a most indignant Severus departed the shop with Mouse in one hand and the snowy owl in a cage in the other.  At least the owl's aggressive actions had allowed him to bargain the price down.

"You can always find a way to make me pay, can't you, you ungrateful little wretch?" he grumbled as he tucked away his purse.  For an instant Severus could almost have sworn the boy wore an abashed expression.  He didn't delude himself to the reality of Mouse trying to snatch the cage that was very nearly as tall as he was out of Severus' grip. 

Rather than risk Mouse scampering off again, Severus dragged him straight to Ollivander's.  The old man had greeted them with the knowing smile that had always made Severus' skin crawl, inquired with undue curiosity as to the state of his own wand, and proceeded to inflict dozens of unclaimed wands upon the hapless boy.

It was with great relief that Severus observed the sparks that indicated Mouse had finally been matched with a wand - relief that was short-lived when he saw Ollivander's expression.

"How curious," said Ollivander, smiling his mysterious little smile.

"What is it?" Severus demanded.

"The phoenix that supplied the feather for this wand gave just one other - the core for the wand which gave young Mr Potter that scar."  He tapped his finger lightly against the boy's forehead with his final words.  Mouse flinched back, the owl screeched in protest.  Ollivander was unrepentant.

"You're saying that his wand is brother to the Dark Lord's?"

"I am indeed," Ollivander assured him.

Mouse's eyes darted between them uncertainly.

"I assume you will be informing Headmaster Dumbledore," Severus stated.

"Of course.  I promised him I would many years ago - the feather belonged to his phoenix, after all."

"And no one else?" pressed Severus darkly.

He received only that damnable smile in response.  Mouse was provided with one additional comment: "I expect great things from you, Mr Potter."  What Ollivander received was a shower of sparks in his face.

Having paid a suitably exorbitant price for the wand, they made a made a dignified but swift exit.

"You will not repeat what Ollivander said about your wand to _anyone_ else, do you understand me?"

Mouse simply _looked_ at him.

"Don't give me any cheek over this, boy."

Bowing his head, Mouse focussed his attention on stroking his owl's ruffled feathers through the cage.  Sighing, Severus hauled his charge back to Madam Malkin's, determining that this would be the last stop.  Anything else the boy needed he would be able to order by owl.

"I do hope you're going to behave this time, dear," Madam Malkin admonished Mouse sternly as he climbed onto the stool once again to be fitted for his robes.  Mouse darted a sulky glance at Severus before meekly complying.

Severus moved to the side, poking through the robes on display while keeping one eye on Mouse.  When a blond boy with instantly recognisable features entered the shop he was quite glad he was half-hidden by the swathes of material, but nevertheless moved closer to ensure Mouse behaved himself in light of this new challenge.

"Hello," said young Malfoy to Mouse as he stepped up on the stool beside him.  "Hogwarts, too?"

Mouse nodded warily.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said Malfoy in a drawling voice that to Severus' ears was an imperfect imitation of his father's haughty tones.  "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms.  I don't see why first years can't have their own.  I think I'll bully father into getting me one, and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Severus had to suppress his laughter at the thought of anyone besides the Darl Lord bullying Lucius Malfoy and getting away with it, and made a mental note to spring a surprise check on the Slytherin first years' dorm some time during the first two weeks.

"Have you got your own broom?"

Mouse shook his head after a moment's consideration.  

"Play Quidditch at all?"

Another headshake.  Severus had to wonder if Mouse even knew what Quidditch was.

"I do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree.  Know what house you'll be in yet?"

Once again, Mouse shook his head, while Severus rolled his eyes at the Malfoy boy's arrogance.  

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff.  I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

It was a pity the possibility of a Malfoy becoming anything other than Slytherin was so remote.  Severus was less than thrilled at the thought of being responsible for this arrogant boy for the next seven years.  Of course, it could be worse - there was an unfortunately growing possibility that Mouse would also remain in his charge after the sorting.  If that was the case, he wasn't sure how he was going to survive without resorting to murder.  The boy was starting to grow on him, however, much like a parasite.

"There you are, dear," Madam Malkin said to Mouse, who hopped off the stool with great alacrity, not bothering to farewell the other boy.  Young Malfoy seemed somewhat affronted before he was distracted by the arrival of his father - whose more observant eyes immediately lighted upon the professor lurking in the shadows.  Severus swore mentally and steeled himself for a meeting with the older Malfoy.

"Professor Snape, how _unusual_ to find you prowling around Madam Malkin's establishment.  Looking to add a dash of colour to your wardrobe?" the elder Malfoy inquired with a condescending expression.  Madam Malkin harrumphed her opinion audibly in the background as she bundled up Mouse's robes.

"Not this time, Mr Malfoy," he replied, ignoring the woman while wishing the aristocratic bastard would just let him pay and escape the store gracefully.

"You have not yet met my son, have you, Professor?" Malfoy ushered Severus efficiently over to the stool where his miniature stood expectantly.  "This is my son, Draco.  Draco, this is Professor Snape, who will be your Head of House at Hogwarts."

"Hello, Professor," Draco said in imitation of his father's measured tones, and proffered his hand.

Severus debated for an indiscernible instant before accepting the boy's hand in an overly-firm grip from which the boy was quick to pull back.  He didn't bother arguing the assumption that the boy would be in Slytherin.

"You have quite a name to live up to, Mr Malfoy."

"I promise I won't disappoint, sir."

The professor rather wished he would.  

"Of course you won't," Malfoy senior assured them both with an edge of warning in his voice.  Draco beamed proudly.  Severus mentally added another ten percent to all of young Malfoy's prospective grades, and hoped to hell that he had learned at least some subtlety from his father.  

"Here are your robes, dear," Madam Malkin informed Mouse, who was skulking over by the owl's cage, which had been left next to the door.  "And how will you be paying for these?"

Severus was about to excuse himself to address the matter of payment with the witch when Mouse plunked a sizeable purse upon the counter.  He watched in disbelief as Madam Malkin directed the boy to retrieve the appropriate amount, and supplied him with his change and the parcel containing his robes.

"I have heard," said Malfoy, regaining the majority of Severus' attention, "that there _will_ be a celebrity attending Hogwarts this year after all."

"Have you?" he responded with practised indifference.  "Well, we shall all see come September, I imagine."

"Indeed we shall," murmured Malfoy, his suave tones belying the sharp look in his grey eyes. 

"Good day, Mr Malfoy, Mr Malfoy."  With a brief incline of his head, he abruptly cut himself from the conversation and stalked out of the store, collecting Mouse and the owl on his way.  Malfoy would be suspicious of his behaviour, but that was hardly unusual.  What concerned him was Malfoy's interest in the 'celebrity' - and the ease with which he could be connected to the boy, especially come September when young Draco would discover the identity of the boy whom he had spoken to.  It did not bode well for Severus' reputation, or his somewhat shadier connections.  He would have to have a little discussion with the Headmaster regarding the boy's safety, and prayed once again that the boy wouldn't end up in his own House.  Speaking of which...

He stopped them in a slight alcove between two shopfronts, out of the way of the flow of pedestrian traffic on Diagon Alley.

"Hand it over."

Mouse blinked up at him innocently.  It didn't fool Severus for a second.  He held out his hand expectantly, and after a few moments the purse was reluctantly placed in it.  He weighed it in his palm, giving it full consideration.  Poking at it revealed a significant portion of silver and gold content, along with the monogram 'L.M.'.  

Severus levelled a _look_ at Mouse - before pocketing the purse, and continuing on to the fireplaces at the Leaky Cauldron.  Mouse tugged at his sleeve as they hurried along the Alley.

"N-n-not g-giving b-back?"

He turned long enough to give the boy an incredulous stare.  "Like hell!"  Although he was planning on casting a few spells to make sure Mouse's magic-deterrent nature had nullified all of Malfoy's anti-theft measures.  Not to mention start preparing himself for seven years as the incorrigible boy's guardian. 

Beside him, Mouse grinned all the way back to Hogwarts.


****


By the time September rolled around, Mouse's reputation was firmly established amongst the staff who had returned early to Hogwarts.  McGonagall was continually despairing of ever turning the 'wild monkey boy' into a civilised wizard, but Flitwick and Dumbledore were both quite fond of playing 'games' with the boy that helped him begin learning how to manage his instinctive use of magic.  Hagrid was repeatedly doing his best to coax the boy down to his hut, in much the same manner as he would any of the dangerous animals living in the Forbidden Forest, while the rest of the staff were doing their best to avoid him.

Severus had taken it upon himself to improve the boy's literacy and verbal skills.  He made the boy copy out his lesson notes for the first term, then set him answering the theoretical questions therein.  He introduced the boy to the library - dragging him out of the restricted section three times - and set essays on the history of the wizarding world.  While by no means brilliant, Mouse proved he was willing to make attempts in most areas besides his speech.  Initially this had been cause for great concern, as enunciation was of considerable importance in casting spells.  It turned out to be less of a hindrance than they had expected as Mouse proved himself capable of casting simple charms soundlessly.  Severus continued with his attempts to draw the boy into verbalising his answers to questions, but had to continually stop himself from picking up on the unique sign and body language the boy had been accustomed to using with the Bones.

Socially, the boy was adjusting slowly to life apart from his adoptive family.  Mouse was _not_ accustomed to being the centre of attention in groups larger than three or four, as a rather disastrous attempt by Dumbledore to throw the boy a birthday party proved.  He would be in for a rude shock when the general populace finally managed to get their hands on him as they doubtless eventually would.  As it was, the students at Hogwarts would provide the little Mouse with ample experience of being gaped and pointed at.  It would be interesting to see how long he held out before either scurrying off to hide somewhere or tossing the worst offenders in the lake - which remained the boy's worst fear.

On the first evening in September, Severus watched resignedly as the new first years shuffled nervously into the Great Hall.  Mouse had flat out refused to go to Hogsmeade Station with Hagrid to slip into the group there, and join them for their traditional entry into Hogwarts over the lake.  Once had been more than enough.  Instead, he had waited with Professor McGonagall, lingering in the shadows of the stairs outside the Great Hall.  Severus caught sight of him edging into the Hall, as far from the crush of bodies as he could be while still remaining part of the group.  Green eyes locked with his own, and he raised one eyebrow challengingly.  Scowling, Mouse moved stiffly into the centre of the pack and glared at him pointedly.  Severus suppressed a smirk.

The boy relaxed a bit when a familiar cat brushed against his leg, followed closely behind by its young mistress and master.  Severus snorted as the trio exchanged greetings, then quickly settled as the Sorting Hat began its song.  The usual applause echoed around the Hall when it had finished, and Professor McGonagall called "Abbott, Hannah!" as the first to be sorted that year.  Moments later, the girl was sorted into Hufflepuff.  Down the table from him, Sprout beamed delightedly.  

"Bones, Christopher!"

The young wizard floated his chair up the steps to the murmur of curious whispers from the assembled students.  He was obviously too old to be a first year, and the chair was highly unusual in the wizarding world.  The news of the missing Bones' return had been kept quiet, allowing the family time to adjust, but Severus was sure that it wouldn't be long before the entire school was aware of what had happened.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindors cheered loudly, if a little uncertainly.  Severus wasn't at all surprised.  

"Bones, Helen!"

The girl actually carried the cat with her onto the stool.  It sat purring contentedly in her lap as the Hat deliberated, much to the amusement of several of the students.

"RAVENCLAW!"

He blinked.  That one was almost surprising, but given the quality of the potions work her aunt had sent to him to be assessed, not unfounded.  Her grandmother had proved a competent potions teacher, if slightly insane.

The sorting continued with "Bones, Susan!" - HUFFLEPUFF - and proceeded on down the list.  Severus made note of the new Slytherins, including young Malfoy, and kept a watchful eye on their end of the Slytherin table.  Young Slytherins had a habit of either showing off or fading into the shadows, and he liked to know which mix he would be dealing with this year.  

"Potter, Harry!"

The whispers spread like wildfire this time, and heads craned this way and that to see the famous Boy Who Lived, long missing from the wizarding world.

Mouse didn't move a muscle.

"Potter!" McGonagall snapped, eyeing the boy sharply, to no avail.  The whispers grew steadily into a dull roar as no Harry Potter came forward.

"Mouse," Severus spoke up at last. "_Move!_"  

The Hall fell silent again as the scrawny boy reluctantly stepped up to the stool and put on the Hat.  They waited, the moment stretching out with palpable tension.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Sorting Hat declared, much to the bemusement of those assembled in the Great Hall.  Gradually a crescendo of applause rose from the Hufflepuff table, only to die away into silence as Mouse seated himself with great aplomb.

"Mr Potter!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall.  She was pointedly ignored.

"Well, I never!" huffed Professor Sprout indignantly. 

"You have to admit, that's a new way to show Hufflepuff's strength of loyalty," commented Flitwick, earning himself a glare from the normally gracious Herbology Professor.

"Albus, he can't do that!" she persisted, only to falter at the Headmaster's raised eyebrows.  "Can he?"

The Headmaster stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"I don't believe there's any rule against sitting at another House's table," he answered mildly.

"Albus!  That's not what I meant!"

As the furore spread around the hall, Severus' gaze was inevitably drawn to the boy who was the centre of it all.  Mouse was waiting as patiently as he was able to for the fuss to die down, meeting the consternated stares of the Slytherin students around him with unperturbed ease.  Sensing Severus' gaze upon him, he turned to the head table and wriggled his fingers in a wave.

Severus fought futilely to hold in his laughter.  It was going to be an interesting year.