"Silver wisp, eye of newt, hmmmhmm."

Please get on with it, Severus thought, glaring at the owner of the Apothecary, Dobs. This man was the slowest ever to add items for a total. Well, that wasn't entirely true- Severus was being unfair, and he knew it. Still, he did not like to be in Diagon Alley for any period of time, due to the possibility of students seeing him. Or worse- other teachers. He'd be forced to strike up a conversation. Now THAT would be nightmarish.

It had been a couple of weeks since the wizard child had approached him at his home, and he found himself wondering often where the boy actually lived. The child's mother must have hid them well, as he had not been aware of other magical folk living in the neighborhood. Not since…

He shook himself slightly. He was not strong enough, even now, to think about her in the middle of a shop without some reaction. Instead, he focused hard on a small spider trapped in a jar, sure to meet its end very soon.

A majestic, silvery owl suddenly swooped in, delicately placing a package next Dobs, and perching herself grandly nearby. Severus looked at her curiously.

"Ah, Cliodna!" Dobs said heartily. "That means Madam Baker has finished that Essence of Dew for me. Madam Baker is one of my favorite suppliers. She isn't afraid to make some of the more delicate potions."

"Madam Baker, you said?" Baker? Where have I heard that before?

"Yes! Have you heard of her? She is one of the top potioneers in Britain- registered in Cokeworth- say, that is where you are from, isn't it? Some kind of potions hub out there?"

"I hardly think two potioneers living in close proximity counts as a "Potions Hub", Dobs."

"I've never met her, but her potions are spectacular. You don't happen to know who she studied with, do you?"

"You are wasting your time and mine, Dobs. I have never met the woman and I would like to go home."

Dobs only smiled mischievously at him, which was infuriating.

"Of course, Professor."

Harry stood watching the strange house yet again. It was now something he did often- step slowly forward until up grew the house on Spinner's End, then step slowly back until it disappeared once more. It had been two weeks since he'd run into the irate professor. Christmas had come and gone, allowing his worried mother to forget about the possible wizard living nearby, and leaving him safe to survey the house more closely.

On his other trips out, Harry had found that if he continued down Sugar Cove to Mill School Road, and then made a right there, he would eventually reach Spinner's End from there. Mill School Road, if he were to walk in the other direction, would take him to Main Street and the tiny shopping district- an area he was NOT allowed to go to. As far as his mother's maps went, this was as good as uncharted territory, for it was farther out than Spinner's End itself. Upon figuring this out, Harry had spent much of his time wandering around Mill School Road, where the local school and another playground stood, and where it was OK for him to be, hoping he might see Professor Snape passing by on a walk to or from the market. However, it was not to be, and so Harry was back staring out at the man's house, debating on how to get the man to talk to him.

Suddenly, as Harry watched the house grow up yet again, Severus Snape appeared on the walk. He seemed to be slightly off balance and carrying groceries in paper bags, which suddenly spilled everywhere.

Harry was there in an instant- though he didn't know how; he had only wished very hard that he were there and could help pick the groceries up. Professor Snape jumped at the sight of him.

"Baker," he sneered. "I suppose I won't be allowed to refuse your unwanted help picking these up."

Harry suppressed a grin and quickly began picking up the groceries, which he quickly realized were actually potions ingredients AND groceries.

He held up one bottle in wonder and amazement, since it was a rarity he recognized. "Silver wisp," he whispered in awe, placing it in a paper bag with other potions ingredients. "Wow, sir. I've never seen most of this stuff in person before."

If Severus Snape was surprised that the young boy could identify and differentiate between potions ingredients and food, he did not show it. "Your mother is an experienced potioneer, I take it?"

Harry laughed. "Oh yes, Mum loves to brew potions! She's even taught me how to enhance the original recipes of some of the simpler ones. It's mostly charms she doesn't like. Dad didn't care for potions, but he was pretty great at charms, so they make her sad. Mum sometimes provides for apothecaries, though. It's how we've lived this long without leaving the house."

"Which potions has she taught you to brew?"

"She taught me to brew Pepper-Up potion, Boil-Remover, a simple Vitamin potion, and some that make candies," Harry said gleefully. "There have been more, but those are the ones I know by heart. I've been brewing since I was five."

Professor Snape was giving him a calculated look, which had started to make Harry nervous, so he turned away and looked out at the street. Lily Potter had taught her son not to stare into the eyes of full-fledged wizards and witches. She had told him that some of them could read thoughts, and that, if they knew who he was, both of them could be in danger. Severus Snape was shocked when his light mind probe was met by just enough resistance to allow the boy to turn away before he could learn anything from him. If he had been using his wand and casting, he could have broken through the boy's barriers without making eye contact, but as it was he did not want the child to be suspicious of him.

It was strange that a child so young should be able to resist even the lightest touch, however. Children's minds were very open and susceptible, usually. This boy had had some training, which was perhaps complemented by experience hiding thoughts and feelings from his mother.

"Your mother has taught you well," Professor Snape said softly. The boy was obviously a talented wizard already, and would be very much ahead in potions once he reached first year, not to mention his potential for Occlumency. For the first time, Professor Snape looked forward to teaching, in the distant future, Evan Baker. Somehow he knew it would be fun to challenge the boy beyond the usual first year, and he was eager to see how he would respond.

"She does her best," agreed Harry, "although I wish she would let me out more. Now that I'm helping her brew, we run out of potions supplies very quickly during the week, and there isn't much else to do since I've read every book in the house that I'm allowed to, and Mum doesn't let me spend hours in front of the telly."

"You watch muggle television?"

"Yes," Harry said happily, "and it's not like books, because in books you imagine your own world to go with a story and its characters, but television makes it come to life in a whole new way. It's like its own sort of magic. Mum says wizards don't have stuff like that."

"No, they do not. What do you watch on television?"

"I really like cartoons, especially American cartoons and movies, but I also like to watch Doctor Who and James Bond and Back to the Future and-"

Professor Snape held up a hand to stop him. "I can see you're rather cultured," he said wryly. "Shouldn't you be running off back to your mother, young man? From what I've heard of her, I can hardly think she would allow you to remain out this late."

Harry shrugged. "She doesn't usually notice, as long as I'm home before dark. She gets really into her brewing- sometimes she doesn't even know I've come home. But I should probably head back."

He turned to go, just as Professor Snape began to head into his house, but turned around upon remembering something.

"Professor," he called, "if- if I wanted to learn about more advanced potions, and to see more magic, could- could I come over and, um, could you teach me?"

His pleading eyes held a hunger that Severus Snape recognized. He was desperate. Maybe not as desperate as Severus was in childhood, but his mother, though loving, was probably depressed and sad. His childhood had been rather isolated so far. The boy clung to anyone in whom he saw hope, even if that person was terribly scary.

"Maybe," sneered the professor, shutting the door and leaving the boy outside in the cold yet again- only this time, both smiled as they walked away.