Find Me Again Someday

Part 1: Eridanus

This is a different kind of story than I've written in the past. It will eventually be a Sevitus, but the first part is pre-hogwarts and more focused on Harry and the development of my OC-aka, expect little to no Severus appearances. The second part will be more of a return to Canon and the third will be a combination of the two.

Please give me your feedback. I look forward to hearing response to this story.

I do not own Harry Potter or Severus Snape. As much as it pains me.

Chapter 1: Birthday Dreams

Harry Potter draped his ratty blanket over the squat bottle he'd nicked from the recycling bin earlier that day. The tip of his tongue poking out from between his teeth in his concentration, he took the crayon stubs from his treasure tin under a shelf with cleaning supplies and began to draw little swirly designs on ripped up sections of notebook paper. With a bit of tape, he pasted them around the disguised bottle. On a larger section of paper, he wrote 'Happy Birthday Harry!' as carefully as he could in the dim light of his cupboard. Taping it right below the bottle-neck, he then took the bright yellow crayon and stuck it in the open mouth of the bottle. He sat back to admire his work.

He could almost convince himself it was a real birthday cake! Well, a cupcake, at least. All he had to do was use his imagination-and that was one thing he certainly had no shortage of. When he took off his glasses, the world blurred and the crayon even seemed to have a ring of light circling it. Focusing hard, he could almost hear a group of people crowded around him, singing and congratulating him. He gazed at his imaginary cake in longing. If only he could taste it…but this would have to do.

After all, his aunt and uncle had never given him a real cake before. He couldn't remember ever receiving a present, either. This fact had bothered him when he was younger-and it still did-but years of dashed hope had turned his confusion come birthday and holiday times into reluctant acceptance.

And he would have to make do with imagining loving voices around him. No one would come to a real birthday party of his (if he were ever to have one) of course. For one thing, he didn't have any friends (Dudley had made sure of that!) and nobody-not his teachers or neighbors-ever seemed to really notice him. On the contrary, everyone seemed to avoid him like the plague, though those he did catch looking at him all wore similar expressions of pity and suspicion.

Harry knew his aunt and uncle had warned them all about him-about how he was a troubled child and potentially dangerous. What Aunt Petunia didn't tell the neighbors (something which had confused Harry for a while until he understood more clearly his aunt's desperate need to appear normal) was one thing that had been hammered into him from early on. Being reminded of this was, in fact, the earliest memory he could recall and which he was now quite sure was the truth: that he was a freak.

Harry often wished his parents were still alive. He really wished he had a brother or sister to play with-someone who would be his friend and not like Dudley whose idea of "playing" only included chasing him with sticks, tripping him, hitting him and getting him in trouble at home.

No, what he wanted more than anything was family. He felt this to be a perfectly valid wish, as even though he lived with his aunt and uncle, he was reminded daily that he was not a member of their family, but just a little burdensome freak his drunkard parents had gone and landed them with.

But Harry wouldn't give up hope. Even though every day was pretty much the same-waking up in his cupboard, spiders hanging down and occasionally getting tangled in his hair, trying not to mess up breakfast as he balanced the too-heavy saucepan from where he tried not to fall from the step-ladder and either chores or school depending on what time of year-he was a very sharp little boy and was always on the look-out for a potential friend. Certainly someday there would be someone wouldn't believe his aunt's whisperings about him…right?

After all. Maybe he was a freak and different. But he didn't think he was a BAD freak. He tried not to be. And besides, he didn't think his freaky things were bad at all, really. He'd even made some snake friends one day! That was until Dudley had scared them away. He'd gotten a pretty bad walloping that night and Uncle had made him promise he'd stop the freakiness. But even though he'd agreed to his Uncle's face, deep down he knew he felt a little less alone each time he did something. When his relatives didn't catch him, it felt like his own little special secret-almost like having a friend. It was something he had that they didn't. And on cold nights when he was trying to sleep with his thin blanket and lumpy mattress, it made him feel warmer to think about it .

But if just once he could have a real friend-a boy like him (or a girl; Harry wasn't picky). If only, he was sure he could stand up to Dudley and feel like a knight strong enough to slay a dragon!

And so Harry hoped on.

Knowing he had his wish, Harry let his hopes out as he took a deep breath and blew at his yellow birthday candle-crayon. It toppled over and to his glasses-less eyes, it almost looked as if he had blown out a true candle.

Now-8 year-old Harry fell asleep, his dreams full of the wonderful adventures he imagined his birthday wish to bring-of what all he would do once he found someone-someone like family. Someone just for him.

Chapter 1: The Dursleys' Gift

3 weeks later

Tap! Tap! Tap!

"Boy!" His aunt's voice snapped.

Rap! Rap!

"'M awake," Harry grumbled. Once he heard Petunia's footsteps hurrying away, he yawned and sat up, pulling a single spider from his hair and rummaging around for something to wear. Not like it really mattered, as all his clothes were so huge on him he always felt like he was swimming in them!

But then he remembered-he had school today! Normally this wouldn't have been any case for excitement. It wasn't that Harry didn't like school. He actually loved learning and read whenever he could. But he could never do his best because his aunt and uncle had made it clear a long time ago that his doing better than Dudley in anything only made Harry's life more difficult.

But last week, his aunt had given him some surprising news. Apparently, a new school had opened in the neighborhood and Harry would go there from now on. A new school! Where the students and teachers didn't already hate him! It gave him hope, even though it was a pretty flimsy hope.

Aunt Petunia hadn't said much of anything else about it and Harry hadn't pressed. After all, if he showed any excitement, she'd probably change her mind. But Dudley would keep going to the old place and so Harry couldn't see how this place could be worse for him. For the first time, he wouldn't be Dudley's shadow. Finally, he would have a chance to meet people before his cousin scared them off. Maybe he could make a friend who saw him as Harry rather that as a little freak-boy.

He flicked on the single bulb in his cupboard to examine his clothes carefully to find the very best set of shirt and pants he could. He certainly didn't want to look like a ragamuffin on his first day!

"What are you doing in there, boy?" His aunt peered through the slits on his cupboard door and eyed him with impatience and disgust.

"I'm just looking for clothes, Aunt Petunia."

For some reason, her tightly-drawn lips rose into a slightly mean smile. "I'm sure what you wear won't make a difference," she said, mock-sweetly. "Hurry up and fix breakfast before your uncle gets done!" She then hissed.

Nodding, Harry put on the clothes he'd chosen right before then-a dark green shirt with holes but only a few stains and once-black pants he had to belt-up with twine he'd nicked one Christmas-and scrambled from the cupboard and into the kitchen.

Petunia thrust the saucepan at him impatiently and he took over without complaint. A few minutes later, he was handling several tasks at once, bacon frying as he spooned humongous portions of eggs onto two plates (and a smaller portion onto a third). Once the bacon was done, he deposited it on the respective dishes and made to carry them to the table. He was sure to be extra careful not to trip and mess anything up. He was too scared that his aunt would change her mind about school if he didn't.

Breathing a sigh of relief when all three plates had made their journey without incident, Harry returned to the stove to fry up another batch of bacon and finish toasting the bread. He knew Uncle and Dudley would demand it anyway.

A tell-tale creaking and then a foreboding earthquake-like rattling all around him let him know the others had arrived. Vernon sat down in his chair, making it groan dangerously under his weight, and began to inhale the breakfast without a word. Dudley grinned meanly at Harry when he entered the kitchen and elbowed him off the step-ladder before joining his father.

As Harry pushed himself off the floor, he was only glad he hadn't been holding anything when Dudley pushed him. Sighing, he clambered back up and piled the toast and bacon onto two plates. He was surprised when his aunt grabbed one to take it to the table, but he knew it was to save time rather than to help him.

Harry started to set the plate of bacon down between Dudley and Vernon, but it was wrenched from him by Dudley, his porky features salivating as he took most of the second-helping for himself.

"Boy!" Vernon barked. Harry turned to look at him in slight fear.

"Y-yes, Uncle Vernon?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"What is this? You want my family to starve? Get us some more and snap on it!"

Nodding, Harry returned to the stove to fry-up yet another batch of bacon, all the while ignoring his growling stomach.

Finally, Vernon and Dudley seemed to have had their full and Harry was made to wash dishes as his aunt began to prepare their school lunches. He couldn't help but notice as she put an extra handful of cookies in Dudley's lunchbox. Harry never got cookies, but only a single slice of ham or cheese between two dry pieces of wonder bread (and sometimes a bruised apple) in his own box. He tried not to think about it-after all, soon he'd have a friend and what did a school lunch mean compared to that?

Once he'd finished with the dishes, he stood by patiently until his aunt shoved a small plate of breakfast's scant (and now cold) leftovers. Harry really wished he didn't have to eat after his uncle and cousin as it wasn't too appetizing, but he just told himself it was better, probably, as at least it made him lose some of his appetite.

15 minutes later, Harry was trying hard to suppress his grin as he followed his relatives to the car. They never drove him usually! A happy giddiness bubbling in his chest, Harry clutched his raggedy book bag (filled only with a pencil stub, a chewed-on pen he'd saved from Ripper and a single half-filled notebook). As he clambered into the car beside his cousin, he couldn't even feel the usual bitterness for how cruddy his school supplies were. After all, it shouldn't matter as long as he did well, right? Since Dudley wouldn't be with him, he wouldn't have to pretend to get answers wrong all the time, so maybe his teachers would like him for once!

He was feeling so high in the clouds that he barely even noticed when Dudley started punching him periodically through the drive.

"Boy! Are you listening?"

"Huh?" Harry jumped. He'd completely spaced out. "Uh, sorry, Uncle Vernon."

The man sneered. Harry looked out the window and recognized that they were parked in front of the school he had gone to last year. A heavy feeling settled in his gut as he felt all his high hopes draining out. Had it been a joke after all?

But then Dudley left (after delivering a good-bye punch) and the car started moving again. Looking up in confusion and trying to keep the rising hope from his eyes, Harry noticed Vernon watching him with narrowed eyes.

"You had better mind your teachers, brat. And none of your funny business! Although," his grin turned feral, "I'll bet this place is gonna whip you into shape well enough."

Harry blinked and answered noncommittally, refusing to let the man get to him right now. Vernon's rants were often bluster, and he thought probably that's what this was. At least he knew he was moderately safe from his Uncle right now as it wasn't like Vernon would hit him right before he left for school, anyway. It would be too visible.

Harry decided to pay attention to where they were going in case he had to walk himself back and forth from now on. He wouldn't be surprised-he usually had to walk to school even when they were driving Dudley to the same place anyway.

Harry tried to memorize the way as they drove, but it seemed an awful long way. Was Uncle sure this was the right direction? Harry didn't dare ask.

They were getting into a bad area of town, Harry could see. Boarded-up shops were everywhere, and he noticed several men asleep in alleyways with half-empty bottles beside them.

Harry gulped. Would he really have to walk through here every day?

Finally the car stopped and his aunt shoved a paper bag at him.

Harry looked up questioningly. He didn't see a school.

"The joint's around the corner. You can walk the rest of the way. We're not about to be seen in a rundown place like this," Vernon sneered.

Harry tried to nod, but he was getting really scared. What if there was no school after all?

"Are you deaf? Get out, boy!"

Harry gulped and with a deep breath, clutching his sack and lunch bag for dear life, climbed down out of the car.

"Have fun," Vernon said maliciously, and they sped away, leaving Harry at the side of the road clutching his bag to his chest. He had rarely felt so alone as he did then.

Well, what did you think?

I have the next...60 pages written...so expect an update soon ;)

Can't wait to have your feedback/ ideas about where things might go-I definitely take my reviewers' ideas into consideration as I revise.

Thanks!

tess4aria