That's my second attempt at writing a story in English. I am not a native speaker. Just study in English speaking country. I hope it is not too bad and I hope you'll like it. I will try to get better as the time passes by and I will have more practice and experience.

Anyway, warnings: it's a slash with an underage participant. Probably won't be too explicit, since The FFNet has quite harsh policy. It has some abuse (at least now) and it is probable that there will be some descriptions of it. It has some content about drugs, smoking and alcohol. M rating is there for a reason.

Finally, I do not own any of the characters (well, besides original ones) and I do not make profit out of this story. It is for fun & fans only. Everything besides plot belongs to JKR. I am just a poor student, so don't sue me, please.

Kaldus

PS. Maybe I can finally learn the blasted alphabet I have been struggling with since I was four.

Chapter I: "A" is for Abuse

(In which the plot begins, Harry Potter is lonely and hurt on the King's Cross and Severus Snape is going on a International Congress of Potions Masters in order to deliver a lecture about his newest invention. And no body is really happy. )

He was laying on the bench at the King's Cross. As always. Every part of his body was aching. It hurt to be there again only after one week of holidays. Even if it was holidays. With no friends. Friends. They were all laying in the graves. Nothing spectacular. They were meant to be there. He had known it long before he realized his own fucked-up situation. Drug addicts could not stay alive. At least not long enough to be there with him.

He pulled out a cigarette and smoked. He had never taken drugs. He just couldn't. It would not be fair for those, whom were believing in him. The point was to never disappoint them. Especially Dumbledore. He touched his cheeks. Shaving would do a lot of good to his looks.

Harry Potter, the Savior of the Wizarding World, was tired. After a night of work in magical docks, everybody would be. Most of the materials, Harry didn't even want to know, what was there, couldn't be moved with magic. The most desperate wizards went to this place, belonged to the black market, to make money in order to survive. He did it to. Many times, when his uncle Vernon Dursley was ordering him to go away and not come back until… Until some day in the future. Sometimes he lived on the King's Cross just two days, but sometimes a week or more. And he always used his fists and belt to tell him that. The good point was that, by that time, everybody knew him. Even the bodyguards and the police. And nobody cared. Why should they? He was just another one boy thrown out of home.

King Cross was the place of new beginnings. Of starting a new journey. For most people. For him and for others it was their own. The small hell on the face of the Mother Earth. The end of the journey. The place called "I will". He sometimes observed all those people who hurried to catch a train to places he only heard about. They were so occupied with their new trip. So anxious or happy to try something, to see something. To find new opportunities.

One tear run down on his cheek. There were no opportunities for King Cross' kids.

The heroes don't cry. Harry didn't also. Only sometimes, during the sleepless, long nights on the King's Cross he allowed this one tear to go.

Severus Snape, the Hogwarts Professor, ex-Death Eater and spy in the Dark Lord's camp, one of the best Potions Master all over the world, was travelling. He really hated using muggle trains. However, it was the safest way. Especially after his betrayal had become public news. Thanks to the Dark Lord, of course. Severus nearly died during his escape from the Death Eaters meeting. Now he was only the second person on the Dark Lord's list "who-is-to-die-first".

His train stopped. It was finally London. He traveled under his own name. He doubted that the Dark Lord would search for him in a Muggle train. But Dumbledore insisted that he took some forgded documents. Just to be safe, Severus. He got out of the train. It was eleven thirty and he had to buy the tickets to Paris. And the cigarettes. He had just run out of those and it would only make him more nervous during the journey. The Congress would not have started for the next 24 hours. He had even time for lunch.

Severus drove up on escalator. He followed the signs, which leaded to the ticket-office. Suddenly, he caught a familiar sight. He turned around and looked one more time. On one of the benches he saw an unexpected view. Harold James Potter. The boy was laying on it. His head and arm were bandaged with some filthy rags. He wore similar damaged, old clothes. They were much too big for him. The shirt looked like someone had to put a lot of effort to keep it from disintegrating. The picture was completed with a cigarette that Potter was smoking.

Once Severus Snape got over the shock and slowly walked towards the lying boy. When he got nearer, he noticed that Potter had a black eye and swollen lip. For nearly everybody he would look like he collided with some door. But not for Severus. He knew everything about fists, belt and other interesting things. There were the words that made his entire life dictionary for a long time.

"May I borrow a cigarette?" he asked.

The boy jumped up and put his hand into the pocket. This wasn't a normal movement for a teenager, no matter how stressed. Auror, Death Eater. Maybe. But not a teenager. Severus knew that Potter probably kept there his wand.

"Professor Snape" the boy sat up. Maybe not a boy after all. Maybe not at all. His eyes didn't look like the kid's ones. Not at all. He never noticed it before. Or maybe Potter was a better actor then he thought. Certainly, he never wore this kind of beaten, broken expression on his face. Anger was what he expected to see. Not a defeat.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Potter?"

"Sitting."

"That I can see. Really. Haven't you learned all those years, that I want the right answer."

"Nothing" muttered the boy, but Severus caught his arm quickly. Potter moaned and tried to free himself. Snape hardened the hold and ripped up one of the sleeves. There were scars and bruises on Potter's arm. Severus stepped back and freed Potter. Some of them were for sure made by the boy himself. Snape sat down.

"May I have finally this cigarette? I have run out of my own." Potter pulled out a packet and throw at him. Snape smoked. He was confused. It wasn't what he expected. Potter bent down and took a big object, which was lying under the bench. Snape looked. It was a guitar. The boy opened a antimacassar and pulled it out.

He touched the strings and moved them slowly.

"Who has done this to you?"

"No one. I felt from the stairs."

"You really think that I would believe such a lie?"

"I'm ok. Everything's fine."

"Potter…" he snarled and stood up violently.

"Is this man treating you or something?" they both heard a voice on the right side of them. Severus turned around and saw a scrawny young man around twenty years. His eyes were gleaming and his skin was unhealthy pale. Severus recognized that he was addicted to drugs. In spite of this his blue lips were clasped with the anger.

"It's ok" Harry muttered. "He is just an old friend, Martin."

"I didn't know you had friends that wore things like that. A tie and a coat from Armani? Jeans from Dolce & Gabbana?" the man looked suspiciously. "Can I not believe?"

"He is my school teacher, all right?" Harry looked angrily. "Go away, Martin."

"I don't think that he is a professor. Teachers don't buy so expensive stuff."

"Just fuck off, before I will kick your ass again."

"You're an idiot. They don't care. No one does. Live with your illusions" he walked away.

"Has he done this to you?"

"No. Martin is just a drug addicted moron. He wanted to… well it doesn't matter" Severus sat down.

"Yes, it does."

"I won't talk about anything with you."

"Potter…"

"Can't you guess?"

"Your family."

"One hundred points to Slytherin."

"It's not funny."

"No. It's not. And?" he put his fingers again on the strings. "Only few things are funny. And rarely."

"Why?"

"Do they really need a reason?"

"No. They don't. At least not an important one."

"How often do you stay here?"

"It's not your fucking business, Snape."

"Whatever you may think, it is my business."

Potter kept being quiet for a while.

"A lot. Four or five times a month. Every time for a couple of days. My uncle's sister is staying with them this week, so… I had to get lost. She hates me."

"Do you have another cigarette?" asked Severus.

"Yeah" the boy opened a packet and gave his professor one.

"Thank you." Snape was thinking. He couldn't drive Potter anywhere. He had only around two hours, before the train left. The apparition was banned since the events in the Ministry of Magic in June. As well as portkeys. But he would never trust Potter to go there alone. He didn't go before, he wouldn't go now. Severus sat silently. He put his bag on the floor. Suddenly, he noticed his passport. The realization came to his mind. He had an invitation for two people. Potter had no clothes, but it wasn't real problem. He could buy him, whatever he needed. Money wasn't an issue. He was one of the best Potion Masters in the world. He made lots of money and never had time to spend them anyway. And changing the photo in one of the fake passports with magic wasn't exactly difficult. Probably Dumbledore will have his head after this, but it was better than let Potter sleep on the train station. And much less dangerous.

"Do you have your wand?" he asked Potter.

"Sure. I wouldn't go anywhere without it."

"Right. You're going with me" Snape stood up.

"What? I'm not. I have a work and everything…"

"You work." Not many people would employee a kid like Potter. Underfed, scruffy, unhealthy looking. They would report him in the muggle world almost straight away. "Where?"

"ndedoks"

"I haven't understood. Speak clearly" Snape ordered.

"In the docks."

"The magical docks?"

"Yes."

"I doubt that you are actually hired there."

"I'm not, but I'm working there, all right." Anger. At least some kind of a reaction. Better than this defeated look.

"You were working in the docks" corrected Severus. "Do you really have anything here that makes you stay?"

"No."

"Then come."

Harry gave up. He put the guitar back to the antimacassar and followed Snape to the ticket-office. He waited a few steps away, when his professor was buying the tickets and then cigarettes. He was a bit surprised, when they reached a small, desolate toilet. Severus pulled out some jeans and shirt from his bag.

"Take it and change. They gonna be too big, but I will fix it in a moment."

Potter looked at him.

"What are you waiting for?" the question wasn't polite at all.

Harry did as Snape told him. Both shirt and jeans were too long.

"I doubt that you're interested in the newest invention in Potions" muttered Severus, when he went out. Two quick wand's movement solved the problem with the clothes. Snape gave him his black Adidas. "Put this on. They should be about right size."

"Right. What about my clothes?"

"Throw them away."

"What?! They are my clothes."

"I'm going to buy new some new."

"Why?"

"You need to look good on the Congress."

"On the congress? What congress? Where are we going?"

"Paris. The International Congress of Potions Masters" Severus put a tie on the Potter's neck. Harry tried to touched it. "Don't move. I have to do it right."

"Why are you taking me with?" asked Potter.

"Because I won't leave you here. Also I have no time to deliver you to the Order of the Phoenix, not after banning all the apparition and portkeys. And I won't trust you to go there, if I leave you here."

"The Death Eaters have their ways to break those rules and not get caught."

"I'm not a Death Eater anymore. The Dark Lord would have had me immediately."

"I forgot about it."

"It's your new name. Don't lose this" Severus gave him a passport.

"Jacques Alexander Orwell? And I'm 22 years old?"

"Try to remember it, Jacques."

Harry nodded.

"Come on. I'm hungry."

They ate in silence. Potter cleaned up the plate.

"You want mine?" asked Snape, pushing his own into Harry's direction.

"Were you not hungry?"

"I'm not a teenager. I don't have to it as much as you. And I have eaten my breakfast. Have you?"

"No."

"Eat it. We have a train in forty minutes."

A few minutes later the plate was clear. Snape paid and they stood up.

"Mr. Potter… Jacques. Have you gone anytime with… some people…?"

"Snape. What are you trying to suggest?"

"You know very well what I am asking about"

"You are trying to ask if I am a prostitute" Potter stood.

"Yes."

"Fuck no, Snape! I would have never done anything like that. I work. I am able to live on my own. And I don't want your pity or charity" he was absolutely furious. "Go to your fucking congress by yourself."

Snape grabbed his arm.

"Potter. I won't leave you here. It's dangerous. The Dark Lord..."

"Fuck Dark Lords, Snape. Take back your clothes and get lost."

"Potter. Look. You can't stay here. And I am responsible for you. I am your teacher. I can't leave a student to be homeless."

"Why not? I can take care of myself. I have been doing so, since I was six."

Snape paled.

"Since you were six." He repeated.

Harry understood that he said to much. His anger left him and the defeated look came back. They were silence for a few seconds.

"Severus" Snape finally said. He took Potter's arm and pulled him.

"What?"

"That's my name. Get used to it. You'll have to use it on the congress."

"Severus. As whom am I going there? As your lover?"

"As my partner, not lover. I wouldn't take a lover to so important meeting."

Potter became silent, evidently shocked.

"Are you crazy?"

"Not at all, Jacques. Would you prefer to stay here?"

"Yes. No. I don't know."

"Come on. We can't be late for the train. And I will have to change those bandages."

That's it for today. I have two more chapters, but I would prefer to know if it can be read by anyone. So, if you could review and tell me whether I should write or threw it away, it would be great.

K.