A/N: I KNOW!!! WHAT AM I DOING!?!?! NOW I'LL HAVE TO WORK ON THREE STORIES AT ONCE!!!!! Ah well. . . This one is kind of short though. . . . . :) . . . .
WARNINGS: AU (somewhat). Male/male relationship later on (Not sure how graphic it will be. . .maybe 'M' later. . . .maybe). OC (kind of).
SUMMERY: When Harry Poter defeted Voldemort it was for good. When Harry shows up at Hogwarts totally changed by the abuse of the Dursleys how will Salem, the son of Severus Snape, become involved? Why are they drawn together? Will Salem be able to fix a broken boy? Will Harry want to be fixed?
September 02, 1991
Dear Papa,
Again I find myself surprised at your deductive reasoning. I have, as you guessed, been sorted into Slytherin. Even though the Sorting Hat did briefly consider putting me in Ravenclaw, it took it less than four seconds for it to make the decision.
I'll try to have fun this year and make a few friends, but it will be hard. I already miss you and Mama and I worry that you will fall apart without me. Who will be there to make sure you don't spend to much time in your lab? And who will make sure that Mama does not forget to take breaks from her studio to eat and sleep? Will you two just rot in your separate corners of the house until I come home? I couldn't bear the thought of it!
Please remember each other!
Your worried son,
Salem Snape
P.S. And don't forget about Flynn!
September 05, 1991
Dear Son,
I fear that I have made a mistake in raising you if you are in your first parent free school year and you can only think about us. I promise you that we will eat and sleep regularly. Also, your mother and I have set apart one night a week for us to go out together. Okay, Sal?
And Flynn will not be abandoned (Not that he would allow us to forget him. Pesky little vermin). Though on that topic, he seems to be missing you dearly. Every time I see him his tall is down and his ears are back. He seems real depressed. I'm betting that he will be ecstatic come Yule Break.
Your mother wanted to write you a message as well, but I'm afraid she is rather busy at the moment. She is currently working on a series of four, very detailed paintings. And you know her: she can't stop until she's finished the last one. Don't fret however, I will bring her up some supper later.
Congratulations on Slytherin! I always knew you would take after me in that aspect. Your mother attended Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, but I am pretty sure that she would have been a Ravenclaw or possibly (dare I say it) Hufflepuff had she attended Hogwarts. Do watch out for Gryffindors though. Some of them can be dangerous.
Watch after yourself!
Your proud father,
Severus Snape
September 09, 1991
Dear Papa,
I am glad that you are all well. I enclosed on of my older shirts with this letter because I thought you could lay it in Flynn's bed. Maybe my smell will comfort him.
My time in Slytherin has been alright so far. The classes are not too hard and the teachers are nice enough. However I have yet to make a friend. Most of the other first years are very closed off and most of the purebloods where friends before school. I don't mind too much though. I spend my free time learning the way around the castle and reading up on future lessons in the library.
I do have one question though. . .
You remember how you warned me about Harry Potter last summer? You told me how he would be as much like his father as I was like you. You told me he would be loud, bigheaded, obnoxious, and a bully. And that he would probably abuse his special treatment as 'Boy-Who-Lived'. Since you warned me I have been keeping an eye on him to see how he acted.
You were right again, he was sorted into Gryffindor. But he doesn't act like a Gryffindor at all. He's strangely quiet, almost folded in on himself. If he does talk to someone his voice has very little emotion. He isn't affected by anything or anyone. It's not like he doesn't pay attention, you can see in his eyes that he grasps onto everything that's said (he is very intelligent). It's just that nothing seems to phase him. It's odd.
I just wondered if you might know why he was like that?
Missing you bunches!
Your curious son,
Salem Snape
September 14, 1991
Dear Son,
I'll have you know your trick with Flynn worked quite well. He still seems a little depressed but he carries your shirt around with him everywhere and he always buries his nose in it when he lays down. You always did have a good instinct when it came to animals. You get that from your mother.
I have to say I'm quite shocked about what you told me concerning the Potter boy. It is rather odd that he would be like that. If he wasn't like his father then I would expect him to be like his mother, but she wasn't like that either. She was warm, caring, and passionate. Quite the opposite of how he seems to be acting. I'll admit that I don't know what kind of childhood he had. I know he grew up with his muggle aunt and uncle and I assume that he had a fairly normal life.
Now I don't want you to spy on him (let me make that clear) but if you happen to notice something else odd I would be interested.
Keep me posted!
Your surprised father,
Severus Snape
Summer Vacation, 1992
(Salem)
I hurried out of the train compartment and down the hall. I was one of the last few people to get off the train. Having learned during Yule Break that it was pointless to try to rush of with the rest of the crowd, I had waited in my compartment and pulled out a book. However it seemed that I had almost waited too long.
I was almost to the door when a compartment door slid open and someone stepped out right in front of me. I let out a yelp as I crashed into the person and tripped over their feet.
Groaning I looked up and was shocked to see Harry Potter looking down on me with his eyebrows slightly raised in a look of faint concern. He tilted his head to the side as if thinking something through, before reaching a hand down to help me up. I took it and smiled in thanks as he heaved me from the ground.
He stood and watched me then, and I couldn't help but return the favor. His eyes were haunting. They were a deep hunter green, big, and didn't seem to blink. They stared into mine briefly after having searched the rest of my face. Thinking it was only fair I broke the eye contact to look at the rest of him. His cheeks were slightly hollow, but not overly so. Plump lips and high cheekbones. My eyes slid back to his and we stared at each other again.
Suddenly he said, "Are you alright?"
"Wha?" I had almost never heard him speak and for a second I was speechless.
"You fell." His voice was quiet and empty. "Are you alright?"
Realizing what he meant I answered quickly, "Yeah, fine. But. . ."
Again he tilted his head to the side and his eyes seemed to ask the question for him, "What?"
I hesitated a second more before continuing, "It's just. . .the only time I've heard you talk before was when a teacher asked you a question in class. Even when people tried to talk to you, you just ignore them. So why now?"
"I was concerned about your well-being." I watched his brow lower as if he didn't fully understand my question. "I've never had a reason to talk before."
"But you've seen people get hurt in class right next to you. Why weren't you concerned about them?" He was actually having a conversation with me. Part of me couldn't believe it, but the other part felt that this was a slightly confusing conversation.
He just looked even more confused as he responded, "I never needed to be. Why would I need to care about other things when I didn't cause them? It wasn't my fault they got hurt. And all the things I do cause happen to me. It doesn't matter if things happen to me. But this," his eyes darted briefly to his chest, then back to me, "was something I cause that happened to someone else."
For a second I was astounded by how much logic was behind his behavior, but then something he had said jumped out at me.
"It matters if stuff happens to you."
His eyes softened and his head lowered slightly. "No it doesn't. Not really. Not to me. And not to anyone else." He turned and grabbed his trunk, getting ready to leave.
"That's not true," I said quickly, feeling bad that he looked at himself in such a way. "What about your aunt and uncle? I bet they love you. Even if they don't say so."
He stared at me for a second and I tried to read his face, but it was impossible. There was nothing there.
"Thank you for trying."
And with that he turned and slid his trunk out the door.
Before he walked out he turned back for one last moment and said, "Good-bye, Itzcóatl."
And then he was gone.
I couldn't believe what had just happened. I almost wished I had friends so I could run up to them and tell them. Not that they would believe it either.
After a few seconds I gathered myself and drug my trunk off the train. My parents where the only ones still waiting next to the train, looking anxious and worried about what took me so long. As they spotted me my mother ran over and pulled me into a crushing hug.
"Oh Sal! I was starting to get worried that they had left you behind!" She said as I struggled to breathe.
"I tried to tell her that sort of thing didn't happen at Hogwarts. But she wouldn't listen to me."
As her grip loosened I could see my papa coming up to us with a smile. Mama turned around slightly and shook her head at him.
"I don't trust you British wizards," she said thickening her usually light French accent.
My father laughed and I smiled at them both., happy to be going home.
"Now come say 'hello' to me properly," Mama commanded and cupping her hands around my head she brought both of my cheeks to hers in the traditional French greeting that I was so used to.
She smiled and passed me to Papa who hugged my tightly and then held me at arms reach. "You've grown," he said smiling.
I smiled back before he continued. "What took you so long?"
"Oh," I said remembering the strange conversation. "I had an interesting talk with Potter."
My mother frowned, but it was my father who commented. "Interesting as in. . .?"
"Not bad or anything," I realized that he was worried I was being picked on. "He did call me a name though. . ."
"He did?" Papa sounded shocked.
"Yeah, I don't think it was bad. But I'm not sure what it meant."
"What was it?"
I paused for a second trying to remember. "Um, it sounded like. . .eetz. . .kwatl. Or something like that."
"Hmm," he looked thoughtful, "I think I might have heard of it. I will look when I get home."
"Yes," Mama said jumping back into the conversation, "Lets go home."
Later That Night
(Salem)
"Can you come in here for a moment?"
I had been walking down the hallway to my room, when I passed the library. As I did my papa had asked that very question. And of course I went in.
He was sitting at the largest table with a big book open in front or him. He smiled at me as I walked in letting me know I wasn't in trouble.
"I found the name that Potter used. I have to say that he has either been thinking about talking to you for a while now or he is very intelligent." It was rare that my father was so impressed and I was dying to know what the name meant.
"I'm doubting it was the first option." I said somewhat dryly.
He nodded slowly. "I agree. Which just stuns me even more."
"Why?" I asked loosing patients. "What does it mean?"
"The name is Itzcóatl," he said while smiling at my enthusiasm. "It is Aztec. It means 'obsidian snake'. Fitting isn't it?"
I had to admit that it was. While I had taken most of my soft and slightly feminine features from my mother I had gotten all of my coloring from my papa. My ink black hair contrasted sharply with my pale skin and my eyes where, fittingly enough, as dark as obsidian themselves.
"Well. . .," I said, slightly in awe of the situation.
My papa just nodded again. "Well, indeed."
A/N: There will be a time skip between this chapter and the next. I'm not quite sure how long it will be yet, but I need them to grow up a bit so the story can evolve more. This chapter was basicly just about their meeting.
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