Chapter 1
Harry stood on the steps, looking out the small window. He really hoped no one would find him there; he wasn't ready to tell them yet.
Maybe I won't tell them, he said, his chest almost hurting, thinking about it. I'll write them a letter. I'll write everyone a letter when I'm back at the Dursley's.
Wiping away his tears, he knew it was the right decision, but he started crying again when he thought about Sirius and Ron and Hermione.
They can still visit me, Harry thought. If the Dursleys let them. And I'll still write them. But he knew, knew, that he couldn't come back to Hogwarts. He couldn't come to Hogwarts, because he would die. He wondered, not for the first time, if his aunt and uncle would like him better now that he decided he didn't want to learn any more magic. They will be ecstatic that I think magic is bad, too. Even though that wasn't quite the truth.
But he didn't want to die.
"Potter, you should be in the Great Hall," Snape said behind him, causing Harry to jump. He turned and glared at the man. Dumbledore seemed to trust Snape, but that didn't mean that the man wasn't still a git. "Must think you're above all rules, now that you're the Champion of Champions."
"Well, don't worry," Harry said angrily, without thinking. "You won't have to deal with me next year." He turned toward the window when he realized he let on his plans to Snape first, of all people.
"Potions is a required fifth year class," Snape drawled. The potions master seemed as if he had more to say, but no further comment came. Harry turned back to glare at his teacher. "Is the great Harry Potter running and hiding from his fans?"
The man was mocking him. Harry felt his anger get out of his control. "Yes, I'm running away, so what? I don't want to be Harry Potter!" he yelled. "I – I want to be . . . I just want to be . . . Harry . . ." Harry trailed off, realizing who he was talking to and expecting points to be taken despite it being their last day at Hogwarts.
But Snape just stared at him for a few moments before turning and walking back down the stairs.
He started crying again.
Severus sat down on the head table with the rest of the staff. He missed Albus' speech, he realized, looking at the faces of the students. He looked at Albus, who seemed to be looking at him expectantly. Giving a nod, Severus looked down at his plate.
He had gone to see the Dark Lord, who was at first angry at his hesitation, and then pleased at his thinking ahead. Thinking about it made his lose what little appetite he had left, and his mind wandered to Potter. He should have rebuked the boy, but Potter's words had honestly surprised him and Severus left the boy to sulk on his own.
Severus couldn't quite put together his image of Potter and the conversation that had just occurred. Potter loved his fame, loved the attention . . . or not? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Potter enter the Great Hall and sit with his friends. Most of the students avoided looking at him or started whispering. Of course, Severus thought. His fame has gone against him, now. But the more he thought about the conversation, the more he wasn't sure.
Then it hit him what the boy had said.
Harry looked at his uncle after Mrs. Weasley hugged him and Hermione and the others said goodbye. The man didn't look happy, and he didn't figure he would. He was taking a long time.
His aunt and Dudley weren't waiting in the car, so Harry climbed into the front seat next to his uncle, but he glanced at the man to make sure he wasn't going to get yelled at before closing the door. They sat in silence most of the way; Uncle Vernon didn't even bother saying hello, and Harry was too deep in his own thoughts of when to tell them he wasn't going back to Hogwarts.
Its going to be easier if I just say it now, he thought, in case I try to change my mind later.
"I don't want to go back to Hogwarts next year," he said quickly. Get it over with, Harry thought.
Uncle Vernon didn't answer, and Harry turned to look at the window, feeling very exposed. He wished he sat in the back seat.
"It's about time you had some common sense," his uncle finally said, and then was quiet again. Harry sighed. "You'll be behind in your studies. You'll have to spend the summer catching up. Petunia said you don't learn normal stuff at that freak school." Harry hadn't thought about that, going to a muggle school again. He had been at Hogwarts four years . . . that meant he had missed four years of school. Slumping, Harry nodded.
"Yeah." From the corner of his eye, he saw the man looking at him.
"We'll get you a tutor."
Surprised, Harry looked at his uncle. That was . . . unexpected.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
Harry was quiet the rest of the day. He still felt distant and numb and he was glad when the Dursleys gave him a wide berth. It wasn't until after dinner, lying on his bed and wishing he would fall asleep, that his aunt came to talk to him.
"Vernon said you've had enough of that freak school," she said from the doorway. He nodded without looking at her. "Good. I'm glad to see you've finally listened." Aunt Petunia didn't say anything more, but continued to stand in the doorway. He finally looked up. "I expect you to behave at school. No freakiness. No talking about it. There's people who still thinks you've gone to that delinquent school, and you'll stick to that story. You'll tell everyone you're better now."
Harry nodded, then looked away. He didn't want to think about it right now. He wasn't a delinquent.
Eventually, Aunt Petunia left him alone.
Severus scowled at the knock at his door, assuming it was someone trying to sell something. He ignored it and went back to his reading. The knocking came again a few times over the next few minutes and Severus sighed as he put down his book and went to open the door. He had to stop himself from talking when he saw who it was. Albus never visited unannounced, especially at his house.
"May I come in, Severus?" the old man asked, and Severus stepped aside.
"And what do I owe this great pleasure?" he asked, his tone hinting this might not be a good idea.
"I'm afraid," Albus said, leaning against one of the bookshelves lining the walls, "that you were correct."
"And on what account are we speaking?" Severus crossed his arms. They had spoken of many topics over the last few weeks, and had agreed on very little.
"Harry," he answered, and Severus narrowed his eyes at the old man.
"He's a child. Just tell him he has to go. He doesn't have a choice." He wasn't sure why Albus was bothering him with this. The boy had gone through an ordeal and got scared. Wanting to avoid the danger made Potter slightly less annoying in Severus eyes, but he was still Potter. He'd rather avoid talking about it.
"That's where the problem lies, Severus. His aunt and uncle are supporting his decision. They wouldn't let me see him and Harry didn't come down from his room. They had, apparently, already chosen the muggle school he will be going to and hired a tutor to catch him up to his classmates."
"That will be dangerous for him," Severus said. "The Dark Lord will have more opportunity to reach him, not less."
"And now you see the problem."
Severus glared at the man for interrupting his time away from the students for a few minutes before relenting and offering him tea. Albus accepted, choosing a seat.
He gave thought to the situation while the water boiled. The Potter boy was scared, no doubt. And perhaps – he unwillingly acknowledged – he was tired of the attention, if the boy's angry words to him were true.
An idea hovered on the edge of his mind, but he pushed it away.
"We must find a way of convincing him that he needs to come back to Hogwarts," Albus said as Severus put the tea down on the small table.
"Why don't you talk to Black?" he answered, sneering at the thought of the man.
"He's . . . otherwise occupied, Severus, and we must take care of this early, before it gets out of hand." Severus sat in his chair and waited for the headmaster to continue. The man did not and Severus scowled.
"Perhaps if the boy was given the opportunity to come to Hogwarts as . . . someone else . . ." he suggested.
"That could be complicated," Albus said, but Severus knew he had sparked something from the contemplating look in his eyes.
"Yes, especially since he would be sorted back into Gryffindor and I doubt Potter would be able to keep from telling his friends."
"Oh, I doubt there would be much of an issue there, with the right argument. There are several other houses he would be suited to."
"Doubtful," Severus answered, and took a sip of his tea. They sat in silence for a bit.
"It would keep him hidden. He already wrote to his friends. Molly was fretting about it earlier. We could have the Dursleys tell everyone they sent him back to . . . St Brutus's, I believed they called it, instead of sending him to a local school."
"Then there would be the transfer problem," Severus pointed out. He saw more flaws in the plan the further it went.
"Ah, yes. No transfers in after fourth year. OWLs." Albus looked deep in thought and Severus put down his cup, eying his book. He wanted to get this over with. "A younger transfer would be less suspicious. And it would give him time to concentrate on his studies without distraction; his grades have been declining over the last couple years . . . We would simply need to give a credible back story." Albus got a look in his eyes that made Severus incredibly uncomfortable. "How long ago was it that you dated that witch? Ronda, was it?"
"I didn't . . . Albus, no. I won't talk with her." Albus looked heavy.
"She died, Severus, a few years back. She was quite sick near the end," Albus informed him, and Severus couldn't say he felt much at the news. "But she was rather recluse, was she not? And the timing would be nearly perfect." Severus shook his head at where this conversation was happening. He could see the thoughts going through the headmaster's head now, and he was angry that he even brought it up.
"I will not do this, Albus. And the timing is not perfect." Severus did the math quickly. "The boy would have to be 13, not 15."
"Even better," Albus said. "No one could suspect."
"Albus . . ."
"You promised to protect him, Severus. Are you going back on your promise?"
"And you promised no one would know," Severus said, holding back his anger as best he could.
"And no one will. We could tell Harry I forced you into this."
"That wouldn't be a lie." They sat in silence again. "He would never agree to it," Severus pointed out. Albus sighed, looking his age again.
"Let me work out the details, Severus, and then we'll talk to him."
Severus had a feeling Albus had made the decision for him, and he had no argument that the old man would be willing to accept.
Harry ignored the knock at the front door. His tutor had just left; catching up was seeming harder than he originally thought, and he couldn't help but wish Hermione was there to help him. Unfortunately, all of Hermione's – and Ron's – letters were about convincing him to come back to Hogwarts. He hadn't told Sirius yet. He was almost afraid to, knowing how disappointed he would be.
"You!" Harry heard his aunt yell from the next room. "What are you doing here?!" Curious, Harry stood up and moved toward the door that led to the living room. He opened it slightly, peeking out. Unfortunately, he couldn't see the front door from there, but he could hear better with the door cracked.
"I'm here to see the boy," Snape drawled, and Harry felt his chest tighten. Not Snape!
"Well, you're not going near him! None of you freaks are! Even the boy has realized the foolishness in that . . . stuff." There was the sound of skin slapping against wood, and Harry wondered if his aunt tried to slam the door in Snape's face.
"You listen to me, muggle," Snape said, and Harry creeped out to peek around the corner, unable to stop himself. "The boy will continue to be in danger if he stays here."
"Now listen here," he saw Uncle Vernon step forward. "Don't talk to my wife that way. And the boy is renouncing magic. No one is to bother him. We've make that very clear."
"The Dark Lord will not respect your wishes," Snape said, and Harry shook his head. He didn't want to hear this, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. "He would be an open target, going to a muggle school with no defenses."
"No! No!" His aunt said, shaking her head. "We will not deal with the freakiness! Out! Out of my house!"
"Get out!" Uncle Vernon yelled, too.
"No. I promise you both, you don't want to anger me. I am here to talk to Potter."
"How do I know you aren't here to take me to Voldemort?" Harry asked without thinking, then ducked behind the wall. He hadn't wanted Snape to know he was there. And Aunt Petunia was going to be mad at him for eavesdropping.
"Do not speak his name, Potter!" Snape barked at him. "Get out here!"
Harry stood there for a few minutes. Snape didn't seem to be coming after him, and he needed to think. Because he hadn't thought about how Voldemort might be able to get him easier in the muggle world than the wizarding world. But it was a given that if he stayed in the wizarding world, he would die. Was it guaranteed if he stayed here?
"Potter," Snape said, his tone softer, but that only made it more unsettling. "I am here on behalf of Albus Dumbledore, I give you my word. We need to talk." Harry shook his head, but after a few minutes, stepped out into the living room. Snape was wearing muggle clothing, and it took a second to digest that. "Is there somewhere we can talk privately?"
Harry narrowed his eyes at his professor. He still wasn't sure Snape wasn't going to bring him to Voldemort, and Harry's eyes wandered to Snape's left arm, and he heard the man huff at him. Snape glared and held out a note. Hesitantly, Harry stepped forward and took it. Sparing a glance at his aunt and uncle, who were absolutely livid, he opened it. It was from Dumbledore.
Harry,
Trust Severus Snape. I was unable to come today.
Albus Dumbledore
Harry's first thought was that it could have been forged, but he knew Dumbledore's signature. It didn't look like it would be easily copied. Hating himself for being weak, Harry glared at Snape, then looked at his aunt one more time.
"We can talk in my room," Harry said, ignoring his aunt's shrill yelling and his uncle's gruff mumbling of the number of freaks in the house this summer. When they got to the top of the stairs, Harry realized too late that the locks were never taken off the door, and he refused to look up when he sensed Snape saw them. "I'm not going back," Harry said when the door was closed. "I can't."
"Potter . . ." Snape looked sick, and Harry wondered what Dumbledore had to do to convince Snape to do this. "What if I were to tell you that the headmaster has devised a way for you to attend Hogwarts without the . . . stigma of Harry Potter." Harry did a double take.
"What?"
"The headmaster, realizing the reasons of your hesitance, has found a way for you to be someone else while you attend Hogwarts." Snape paused but started talking again before Harry could process that. "You would, unfortunately, have to redo a few years for a number of reasons, and you would have to try to avoid being sorted into Gryffindor . . ." Snape fell into sneering that bit, "but you wouldn't have the . . . pressures you were dealing with before." It seemed to Harry that it was taking all of Snape's control to sound so even.
Harry just stood, staring at Snape. This is not how he expected this conversation to go. The offer was almost tempting.
"If I were to say yes, who would I be going as?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"You don't get a choice in the matter, Potter. It is simply too dangerous for you to stay here." Harry just glared and waited for an answer to his question. Snape seemed to realize this. "Headmaster Dumbledore," Snape continued, his voice sounding more tense, "has decided that you will be deaged to thirteen years old and will be . . ." Snape trailed off, and Harry's heart dropped. This wasn't sounding good. "You will mascarade as . . . my son." No wonder Snape looks sick, Harry thought before fully comprehending what the man said.
"What? No. And I'd have to redo two years of school?" Harry was so startled, he couldn't find the energy to yell. If Dumbledore if forcing Snape to do this, then Harry didn't think he'd have a way out. And not being THE Harry Potter at Hogwarts was almost tempting enough. He'd still get to learn magic, but Voldemort wouldn't be coming after him.
"Its either that, Potter, or go to Hogwarts as yourself."
Harry sat on his bed rather hard. A part of him was ready to throw a Dudley-sized tantrum, but, "I'm going to get in trouble for this," was all Harry was able to say. "Aunt Petunia's going to be angry."
"She's always angry, Potter," Snape said, and Harry looked up, feeling despondent. He probably wouldn't have been able to catch up to his muggle studies anyway. Just the math alone was a lot.
"How do you know my aunt?" Harry asked, realizing Aunt Petunia had seemed to recognize him. Snape shook his head.
"Well, Potter?" Harry didn't see any other choice. He either died when he was older, or – as Snape seemed to think was likely – soon if he pretended to be a muggle.
"I don't want to die," Harry said, and then clamped his mouth closed, keeping his eyes on his hands. He kept talking when he didn't mean to. Snape didn't say anything for the longest time, and finally, Harry chanced looking up.
"The headmaster and I intend to keep you alive for a very long time, Potter."
