Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Apparate


Severus is Harry's Father, comes and takes him away from Dursley's at age five. But Instead of getting him from the Dursley's, he takes him from school. Snape goes into hiding to secure himself and his son's safety.


Quick Author's note

Hi hi, I know there are about a million of these on , and I did promise myself not to write one of these, but I like this particular spin on the story I thought of, plus I can do with the writing practise!

I have to admit, this particular plot, when excellently done, is very enjoyable, but I often find many authors fall into the trap of almost cut and pasting lists of abuse signs off the internet, which I will try not to do, but please leave some feedback, especially criticisms! I Need all the criticism I can get, especially if you like the idea. Anyway, hopefully I haven't bored you to death! Onwards!


Chapter one – Snatched.

"When we remember that we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained" - Mark Twain.

"Harry, can you stay behind for a second?" asked Miss Smyth as the children ran out for break.

Harry stopped in his tracks as if he has been yanked on a chain and turned around, slightly terrified.

"Teacher's pet!" Yelled Dudley, his friends laughing, as he ran away before Miss Smyth had the chance to reprimand them.

Harry waited until they were all gone, frozen in his tracked before slowly, guiltily, walking to her desk.

Miss Smyth's heart broke a little. Poor boy, she thought, he was miserable, but there was nothing she could do. Except now. Maybe, she thought, maybe she could make life a little better for him. Give him someone to talk to, to listen to him, take an interest in him. She'd only been teaching him for the last month, but the signs were practically written out in NUT1 guidelines. On his first day he'd come in wearing dirty, ripped clothing three sizes too big for him, it took barely a week for her to notice peculiar bruises on his body, in odd places that no fall, unless it was from a hundred metre height, could possible cause. His Aunt, Petunia make it very clear that she was his Aunt, did little more than bark at him when she came to pick him up to school with his cousin, Dudley.

OH yes, Dudley, he was the kind of boy who was politely described as "boisterous." In reality, he was a bully, known through the staffroom for taking a whack at anyone who got in his way, but in such a way that Dudley never got caugh in the act and the children he hit were too scared to speak. It was possible that Harry had got some of those bruises from rough and tumble play with him, indeed, Dudley was a heavy boy, but it seemed unlikely. Even Dudley couldn't have left the kind of mark on Harry's arm that was barely hidden beneath his moth-eaten school jumper.

Harry looked up at her with his big green eyes and looked at her expectantly. She smiled, and before she spoke she unconsciously reached out to him and he flinched. She paused. Textbook, she thought, this can't be real.

"H-Harry."

"yes miss." He said in a quiet voice.

"Harry, don't look so worried! I just want to talk to you about this story you wrote."

"I'm sorry, "Harry said, "I'm sorry, I wrote wrong, forget it…"

"No, no, it's good, it's very creative."

"NO, no it isn't!" Harry said, his voice drowning in panic, "I'm sorry I wrote it, I'll rip it up…"

Miss Smyth held the papers out of Harry's desperate reach and said, far more sternly than she intended, "Stop it Harry, be quiet please!"

Harry stopped dead and hung is head. "Sorry Miss…"

Miss Smyth coughed, and continued, "Now Harry, in your story you write about a boy called John who lived with monsters…and the monsters hit him and make him sleep in a tiny box…that's…very imaginative. The big one you drew, he has a very red face! What else do the monster's do to John?"

"The…the monsters tell John he's stupid and hit him if he gets a job wrong." Said Harry, looking at the floor. "The monsters don't let John eat if he's been bad. But John's run away with his Daddy, run away where the monster's can't find him! And his daddy takes him for ice-cream, and lets him sleep on a blanket and doesn't make him cry ever again! John doesn't worry about the monster's ever finding him…"

Miss Smyth looked at the picture of Harry and his dad. It looked oddly familiar, for some reason, but she couldn't put her finger on it. It was a black haired man, in a black dress with a big nose holding a crayon Harry by the hand, pointing at the monsters that had crude frowns drawn on. Indeed, textbook escapism, textbook story, mirroring word for word what Miss Smyth suspected to be Harry's life. She frowned, just a little and said, "I see. John's dad must be a very brave man, standing up to those monsters. Now, Harry, do the monster's ever make John feel sad."

"All the time." Harry said, with a day dreamy look in his eye, "John keeps wishing for his dad to come and save him, but John had been a bad boy, so his Dad sent him to the Monsters."

OH God. Miss Smyth knew what she had to do. She had to be very careful, but she felt that she would be able to get this child into protective custody by home time, especially with the evidence she'd been gathering, noting down and now, this story, a paper-thin cry for help. "Harry, those monsters's are real, aren't they?"

Harry was silent a second. "yes" he whispered, "but only because I'm a bad boy, I'm a bad boy, I'm a bad lazy boy…" he rocked slightly as he said it, closing his eyes.

"Harry, You're not." Miss Smyth, against her better judgement, put her hand on his shoulder. "Look me in the eye's, Harry."

Harry couldn't move his head.

"Harry, look up please."

Harry slowly lifted his head, his bright green, those famous, bright green eyes penetrating her own dull grey eyes. Those green eyes looked like a stormy sea about to burst, fighting between defeat and defiance. She instantly recognised those eyes, as well. Of course they did. They'd been on the front page of every daily Prophet five years ago. And that…how had she not seen…that scar, hidden below a thin layer of dirt and hair.

Oh no. What was a complicated, but textbook case suddenly got…even more complicated. "Harry…I promise I'm going to help you. Get you away from the monsters and to people who will look after you. I promise. I'll make everything better, I promise. I need to make a few phonecalls, so you can go out to break now, but when you get back, there's going to be a nice policeman who wants to know more about these monsters. I want you to tell him everything, as he can help make them go away, do you understand?"

"yes Miss." He said, perplexed.

"Good boy." She smiled, squeezing his shoulder before she let him go.

Harry walked to the door carefully, and swung on the door a moment. "Miss?"

"Yes Harry?"

"Thank you" he said, his voice a half whisper, "You're a very nice lady." Then he shut the door behind him.

Instantly, Miss Smyth flicked out her mobile phone. Although she knew that she should phone the police, she was so…shocked at what she has just seen, she had to call her brother, Leonard.

Leonard was a wizard. Miss Smyth was not, though she was born into a wizard family. She was a squib. And having feared for her life, but for this little boy in her care, she needed someone to talk to who she knew would understand this.

Leonard had kindly charmed the phone for her, so she could contact him with it, as she could hardly work the floo system, let alone the various networks of fireplaces around the world. Leonard picked up the phone quickly. "Hello, Hyacinth!"

"Leonard, you would not…"

"'Cinth, this is not a good moment to be calling right now, this better be…."

"…I have Harry Potter in my class."

There was a long, pregnant pause.

"What?"

"I have Harry Potter in my class, he has the scar and everything. He's currently living with his muggle Family, but…they aren't treating him well…"

"Not treating him well, but he's…"

"Leonard, that doesn't matter, do you know anyone at the ministry that could help me get him out?"

"What makes you think he's being badly treated? He's meant to be in hiding right now, you can't just pull him out for no reason!"

"He has a bruises the size of a fist on his neck and arm. That's reason enough for me." He hissed down the phone.

"OH Merlin. That is a reason."

"Indeed. Anything you can do to help?"

"Do you have any documents, any proof?" Leonard demanded, "If you do, I'll open up a floo portal near where you are, and you can send them through."

"I…I do." Said Miss Smyth, looking through the various papers on her desk, "I made copies of the ones I gave to the school, I can have them sorted out for you in five minutes."

"Good girl." Leoard said, patronisingly. Miss Smyth inwardly sighed. Her family had the bad habit of treating her as if she were born mentally handicapped because she was a squib, rather than simply a person who couldn't do magic. As she considered this, Leonard said, "What's he like, 'Cinth? As a person? I always imaged Harry Potter would grow up to be a bright boy, a brave boy, y'know."

"He is," she sighed, as she walked to the window, watching him, "anyone who could live in a house like he does, and not give up is brave. And he's bright, though he doesn't always show it…" and she feel silent.

"No, no…" she whispered. She saw black hair and black robes. A man with greasy hair and a hook nose. A face that she knew, but didn't know the name of. The face of a deatheater. She swore she'd seen him, those night, those night's she'd prayed to stay alive. How many times had she been chased down the road by kids in black robes, sneered at, legs broken with hexes before they beat her up? And now…he was here. Now. Near Harry, the boy that destroyed his maste…and then a sickening feeling flooded through her, making her heart beat like a drum machine. No. He had taken the boy's hand…no, no, she's had to…

"'Cinth, what's going on?" Leonard demanded

"I've got to stop him…"

"'Cinth, what is it?" he hissed down the phone.

"I think there's a death eater there…" She weezed down the phone, "Oh God, there are all the muggle children, and there's a death eater there…" Miss Smyth slammed the door open and sprinted down the corridor covered in construction paper and poster-paint pictures "Get someone here now! I'm going to do what I can…"

"'Cinth, stay on the…"Miss Smyth turned off the phone and ran out of the double doors to the playground. The man, in the robes, talking to Harry…holding him in his arms. She felt her stomach flip at the sick, cruel irony of it all.

The deatheater, however, obviously knew a threat when he saw it too. "HARRY!" She screamed loudly, "Harry!"

The man quickly scooped Harry into his arms, and in a second that lasted a lifetime, she saw him; Long, greasy black hair, ugly hook nose, sallow skin like he didn't know sunlight and eyes, eyes that viewed her with malice…she took all this in before he disappeared in a flash on nothingness.

He was Gone, as if he'd never been there in the first place. Gone. Missing…

Apparated.

Miss Smyth stood there in stunned silence, the children playing around her as if they had seen nothing at all.

And in her shock, Miss Smyth knew that, for the first time in twenty years, she'd be forced to return to the wizarding world.


Hi hi

I hope that sparks your interest! I'm not sure how long this is going to be and hope that the OC didn't put anyone off! From now on, it's going to be mostly Snape and Harry, but I'd never read a story before where Snape is accidentally mistaken as a child snatcher! I will explain a bit more as we go on, but I want to use Miss Smyth as a sort of narrator for us, so we can fully understand how seriously this is taken, whilst allowing Snape and Harry some "parenting" time.

Anyway, please leave some feedback, either way!

1 NUT – the British Teacher's Union.