Chapter Two

Harry's New Brother


"Up!" Petunia shrieked as she banged on the door. The knob rattled as she tried to open the door, but the lock held. "Get up. Now!"

Severus rolled over. His young body demanded more sleep, and more sleep he was determined to get.

"We gotta get up!"

Severus ignored Harry, already half asleep again.

"Stevie." Harry crawled under the bed, fishing out ratty shoe, already dressed in his new clothing. "It's time to make breakfast."

There was no response.

"Aunt Petunia will yell at you, then Uncle Vernon will get mad."

"Leave me be."

"Kay. I'll try to sneak you something to eat. Do you want some bacon?"

Harry waited for a response, but left when none was forthcoming.

Severus stretched under the covers, determined to go back to sleep. But it was all for vain. Even though exhausted, he couldn't fall back to sleep. The smell of bacon and coffee finally drew him out of bed and downstairs.

Three sets of eyes turned to Snape as he stumbled into the kitchen and helped himself to a cup of coffee.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?"

"What does it look like?" he helped himself to some cream and one of the Dursley's doughnuts sitting on the counter.

"Stevie, no!" Harry whispered from the stove. Bacon fried in front of him. Eggs were on the other burner.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll put that back," Petunia warned. "And the coffee isn't for you!"

Severus took a bite, and then washed it down with coffee.

"That's it! I've had enough of that boy!" Petunia screeched at her husband. "That old man dragged him into our home and turned it upside-down! And he's a bad influence on the boy!"

Ignoring the hubbub, Severus sat down in Harry's usual spot. He took another sip of the coffee.

"Now Pet—"

Severus grabbed the paper from Vernon's side of the table.

"Now you see here!" Vernon shouted at the loss of his paper, suddenly developing an opinion.

Severus pulled out the sports and comic section and tossed it to the man, placating him.

"Hemph!"

"Don't you burn that bacon, boy!" Petunia shifted her ire from her husband to the boy. "And don't forget to make a plate for Dudders. As for you, I have a list of chores for you! Harry, you're to keep that boy out of my way today."

"Yes Aunt Petunia." Harry set a plate of bacon on the table.

"Keep him from Dudders, too."

"Yes uncle Vernon." A big bowl of scrambled eggs followed.

"After you clean the kitchen, I want you to start with the laundry."

Unobtrusively, Severus watched from behind the paper as the Dursleys ate while Harry loaded what he assumed was the 'dishwasher'. For the first time, he noticed that there were only two plates at the table. He then recalled Harry's words: "I'll sneak you something to eat."

"My car still needs to be washed."

"Yes Uncle Vernon."

Severus folded the paper, stood, and walked to the cupboard. He pulled out two plates. There wasn't much left, but he piled what remained on them. It'd have to do for now. He sat back down at the table.

"Harry, eat," Severus said as he ate his own eggs.

"You already had a doughnut!" Petunia hissed.

"Thank you for reminding me," Severus said as he grabbed a pastry and dropped it onto Harry's plate. He filled both of their glasses with milk.

Harry stood at the sink, torn. He wanted the food, but didn't want to get into trouble.

"Vernon, do something about him!"

The fat man looked at his wife, then at the hungry boys, then back to his wife. Quickly, he downed his coffee and got up. "I'm late for work."

"Vernon!" Petunia hissed, and gave the boys one last glare before following Vernon to the Door. Angry whispers traveled down the hall, towards the front door.

"Harry, sit."

Warily, Harry sat and began shoving eggs into his mouth, trying to finish before his aunt came back, afraid she'd take it away.

Petunia stood at the door, and glared at Harry. Severus took the opportunity to slip into her mind. Like Vernon, she didn't love Harry, but she did care for his welfare. And also like Vernon, she feared Harry's magic. She believed that she was training a dangerous child, and if she didn't, Harry's magic would bring disaster. In her twisted logic, she believed she was helping Harry by showing him his place. And truth be told, she wasn't too far off. Harry was a danger and Petunia had no defense. A burst of wild magic from a tantrum, an attack by vengeful deatheaters, or unwanted attention from the ministry were all real possibilities.

Petunia's regard shifted to Severus, her glare filled with suspicion. She suspected Snape wasn't what he seemed, and that she knew him from somewhere. She wouldn't be as easy to manipulate as her husband, able to scheme and manipulate like a Slytherin, though with less tact. Petunia was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. He'd have to watch her carefully, or she'd threaten his plans.

"Stay away from my son." She grabbed Dudley's plate of breakfast from the counter and a glass of milk.

"I assure you madam, I have no desire to interact with your bulbous offspring."

Her eyes narrowed even more. Severus's could see her trying to piece together why the he seemed familiar to her. "Have Harry show you the chores. I expect them done before lunch."

"We get lunch too?"

From the table, Harry watched warily as Petunia turned to deliver her son's breakfast. Intuitively, he knew something more was up than just breakfast and chores.


"You shouldn't make Aunt Petunia mad. She can get mean."

"A bored muggle housewife poses no threat to me," Severus grimaced at Dudley's large y-fronts. Another pile of laundry was waiting to be folded after this one. "Let me worry about her."

"She didn't like Mrs. Anderson next door, so she called the city and told them about their new deck. They didn't have the right paperwork from the city to build it, so they got a fine and had to tear it down. Then she called the police 'cause their garbage can stayed at the curb too long. She also spreads nasty rumors that aren't true."

Severus rolled his eyes at the petty neighborhood intrigue, not impressed.

"She might not let us eat, and we'll have to stay in our room all day," Harry pressed as he balled up a pair of Vernon's socks.

He eyed the boy's form. He wasn't emaciated, but was thinner than he should be. "I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen."

Severus saw hope in his eyes, but could tell Harry wasn't quite convinced. "Once she made me stay in my cupboard all weekend. Uncle Vernon let me out to cut the grass and to go potty. I had to sneak out to raid the fridge at night."

"As tempting as it is to stuff you into a closet, that will not happen anymore." It would make his job easier if he could stuff the child into a closet. He'd be rid of the brat and could go home.

Harry giggled, not hearing the sarcasm. "Uncle Vernon always says he might send us to an orphanage."

"Doubtful. His threats are empty."

"I don't wanna!" Dudley's loud, petulant voice interrupted.

"But Dudders, school starts next week," Petunia pleaded as she approached the hall laundry closet, a stack of clothing in her arms. "You need new trousers and socks."

"I hate shopping for clothes!"

"Here," Petunia shoved the stack at the boys. "You two will have to share."

Severus fished a pair of hand-me-down blue jeans out of the pile. The waistband button was about to fall off and the seams in the seat were stretched. They might work lengthwise, but the 'husky' size would never fit his slim build. Harry was smaller yet, and would swim in them.

"These garments are unacceptable." He spent his first childhood in ill-fitting and worn clothing. He wasn't a vain person, but he always made sure his clothing was neat, in good repair, and properly fitting. Ill-fitting or ratty clothing could hamper him and the boy in an emergency. "You'll supply Harry with suitable clothing."

"How dare you! Those are designer trousers you're thumbing your nose at! You'll be grateful for what I give you!"

"My mistake," came the sarcastic reply. He dropped the jeans to a pile on the floor and turned back to the laundry, dismissively.

"Will the freak and creep have to go too?"

"Now Dudders, you know we can't leave them here by themselves."

"Send him to Mrs. Figgs!"

"Now Dudley, you know we can't—"

"No!" He stomped a pudgy foot.

"Perhaps you could bargain with your mother," Snape smoothly interrupted the tantrum. "A treat for your cooperation perhaps?"

Dudley scrunched his face, caught between wanting to take the good advice and telling the interloper to shut up. He chose the best of both worlds. "Shut it, creep. Mummy, I want to stop for ice-cream if those two have to come. And I want those Nikes I showed you in the ad."

Petunia glared at Severus. "Fine sweetums."

"She gave in too easily. Next time ask for more," Snape advised, making no effort to hide his smirk.


Marks & Spencer hadn't changed much since he'd last been in one some fifteen years ago. Plastic mannequins displayed cheap, mass produced muggle fashions. Unsupervised children ran wild, crawling through the racks of clothing making a mess. Clerks milled about, cleaning up after them.

Reflexively, he reinforced his occlumency shields, finding them already up. He hated crowds, and the shields only helped a little. Lilly had called it social anxiety. Whatever it was, he felt his already short temper fraying.

"Sit." Petunia pointed to a bench. "If I can't find you when we're done, you're walking home." Without waiting to see if the two boys complied, she herded Dudley off towards the shoe department.

"What size are you?"

"Hunh?"

"What size are you? Are you deaf?"

"I dunno," Harry replied. "Why?"

"I told you. I have no desire to be seen with a ragamuffin." Severus pulled Harry to a rack of modestly priced store brand trousers on sale. "Pick several, dark colors. Select a size that leaves a bit of room to grow, but isn't baggy. Do you have a jacket?"

"Yeah, Dudley's old one."

"You'll need a new one then, one that fits."

"But Aunt Petunia won't pay for one." Harry squinted at a price tag, holing it close to his face to read. "I don't have any money."

"Do you not earn a stipend from your chores?"

"A what?"

"Money. An allowance."

"No. Dudley gets one though."

Severus sighed. "Let me worry about it."

"But—"

"Don't argue," Severus snapped as he turned towards a display of clearance jumpers and tees. He selected several of each, in various shades of green. "Go try these on."

When finished, Harry had a modest pile of clothing. It wasn't much, several pairs of trousers, several tee shirts, a jumper, and a jacket. Socks and underpants rounded out the pile. In total, it would probably cost less than Dudley's brand name shoes. Speaking of which, the boy needed shoes….

"What do you think you're doing?" Petunia hissed, noticing the pile of clothing Harry clutched hopefully in his arms.

"Harry needs new clothing for school. As his guardian, you're going to supply it for him."

"Now listen up you little toe rag, I'm not buying you a new wardrobe."

"I'm not asking you to. I have clothing. It's Harry who needs clothing."

Nearby, a clerk pretended not to listen in on the family drama. Several shoppers were less discrete.

"It's okay Stevie. I don't need—"

"No," he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Your cousin's hand-me-downs do not fit and I cannot keep loaning you my clothing. Winter is coming and you'll need a coat."

"Fine!" Petunia blushed, noticing the stares from the other shoppers.

"He needs a pair of shoes as well."

Petunia pressed her lips into a thin bloodless line. "Very well."

Dudley, oblivious to his mother's ire, whined, "when are we gonna get some ice-cream?"


Today and yesterday were the best two days of his life, Harry decided. A big 'brother' who looked after him, a bedroom with a real bed, and now new clothes!

"I thought Aunt Petunia was going to yell at you in the store," he said in awe. He opened up the wardrobe and began hanging his new clothes. "How did you do it?"

"It wasn't difficult. I used Slytherin cunning."

"What's that?"

"Never mind." Even with his and Harry's things put away, the wardrobe still looked pathetically empty. He pulled a long stick out of a pocket in his sleeve and tapped his backpack. He then put the stick back, but impossibly his sleeve wasn't stiff or lumpy. He then reached into the bag, his arm disappearing into impossible depths.

"How'd you do that?"

"Pocket spell. Light-weight spell. Camouflage spell. A compartment expansion spell. Multiple wards to keep you and your lovely relatives out." Apparently finding what he was looking for, he pulled out a small pewter caldron. "Bring me a glass of water."

Strange things seemed to follow Harry where ever he went, so he didn't push the question. He was used to it.

When Harry retuned he had a gas burner and various glass jars sitting on the desk. The older boy took the glass of water and poured it into the cauldron. He placed it over the flame and the water immediately began to boil.

"How'd it boil so fast?"

"Magic."

"No, seriously?"

"Seriously," Severus boy rolled his eyes. He put some green things with some brown slimy things into a mortar and ground it into a sloppy paste with a pestle. He dumped it into the caldron, which hissed, then the liquid inside turned bright blue.

His new brother measured several things from the jars and added to the pot. Harry glanced at the door. "If Aunt Petunia sees this, she won't be happy."

"We wouldn't want that, would we?" the other boy smirked meanly. To Harry, it sounded like he wanted her to walk in so he could argue with her.

"Whacha making?" Humoring his brother, Harry let it drop.

"Provided the chlorine in the water doesn't interfere with the billywig wings, I'm making a simple nutrient enhancer potion," he said absently as he added a pinch of something from a jar. He slipped in to lecture mode without realizing it. "First you boil the water. Then you add the dehydrated newt eyes. Grind a sprig of mint with a pinch of beetle eyes and toad livers. Let it seep for an hour, stirring widdershins five times every fifteen minutes."

Harry understood only a third of that. "So you're making a fancy tea?"

"No, as I stated previously, I'm making us a nutrient enhancer potion." The older boy muttered something. Harry thought he caught the words 'like your father' and 'dunderhead.'

Confused, Harry ignored the insults. Most of the jars looked like they held herbs, but some of them looked like they held slimy animal parts. He could have sworn that he saw some of the little bug eyeballs blink at him. If Aunt Petunia saw this, she'd be cross. She didn't like bugs in her house—in jars or otherwise.

"It looks gross."

"Before our evening meal, we will take a sip."

"Um," Harry didn't know what 'billywig wings' were, but he knew he didn't want it in his tea—or soup-or whatever it was. He scratched his head. "Err, why do you want me to drink your tea?"

"Were you not listing?" the older boy said, clearly insulted. "I do not brew 'teas'. It's a potion, not tea. You will take a sip every evening. Or do you wish your growth to be stunted? I myself, refuse to trust my nutritional fate to the generosity of Petunia Evans."

"Is that my mom's maiden name?" Harry hazard a guess, never hearing the name before.

The older boy glared at Harry. "You didn't know?"

"No," Harry answered. "Every time I ask she says not to ask questions."

"Lilly Evans, was your mother's name."

"Lilly?"

"Lillian actually."

"Was she a drunkard?"

"What?" Of all of the questions he prepared himself for, that wasn't it. "Drunk?"

"Aunt Petunia says she died 'cause My dad was drunk, and driving too fast. She too."

"Your aunt lied to you."

Harry could feel tears welling in his eyes. He knew not to trust his aunt to be truthful, but it still hurt. rry chose his brotheH

It took several moments for Severus to continue, but finally, he did. "James Potter probably didn't get along with your aunt. I don't know much about their interactions, but I do know he wasn't a drunkard."

"Oh." Somehow, that wasn't very comforting.

"He was a bully at school, though. I don't think that can blame that on alcohol."

"Um, okay." His dad couldn't have been that bad. How could this strange kid know anyway? He was only a six months older than him. But when given the choice between believing the boy who gave him his own bedroom and his aunt, Harry chose the new boy. He didn't know why, but felt that he could trust him more than his relatives.

"That watch you're wearing, does it have a timer?" the older boy asked. Harry had the impression he was trying to change the subject. He didn't know how he knew, but knew the older boy didn't want to talk about his father.

"Sortta."

"Sortta?" he mocked. "What does that mean?"

"It's Dudley's old watch. He broke it and threw it away. I fixed it, but none of the buttons work anymore. I can't set the time, so it's an hour and five minutes off."

"Give it here," he sighed as he studied the watch. "It has magical residue. How did you fix it?"

Harry scratched the back of his neck. He didn't want to talk about his freakiness any more than the other boy wanted to talk about James Potter. He shrugged, embarrassed, and a little scared of making the other boy not like him. "I wished for it."

The words sounded silly, even to Harry's ears. He expected the older boy to laugh. Or worse, he expected him to act like his family, and hate him for the freakiness.

"You did a good job," He sounded impressed as he scrutinized the time. "Muggle electronics usually don't take to magic, much less wish magic. Keep practicing. Try to fix the buttons."

"Magic is real?"

"What did you think the strange phenomenon surrounding your actions were?" the older boy looked at him like he was an interesting bug—a very stupid bug at that. "Did you think it was normal to wish for a watch to fix itself?"

"Um, no."

"Magic is real."

"But Aunt Petunia says there's no such thing."

"We've already established that your aunt is a liar. Use your brain, boy."

"Why would they lie to me about magic?" Harry was torn between believing what he knew about reality and what the strange boy said.

"Your aunt and uncle know about your magic and fear you for it."

"Am I bad because of magic?"

Severus snorted. "I'm sure you can accomplish mischief without the aid of magic."

Harry had to smile at that.

The older boy handed Harry a glass stirring rod. "It's been fifteen minutes. Stir the potion widdershins five times."

"Widder-what?"

"Widdershins, a direction contrary to the sun's course." Stephan began cleaning up, tightening lids back on jars and putting them into his backpack. "Counter clockwise."

"Oh." Harry carefully stirred five times. "Is the tea-"

Stephan glared.

"—I mean 'potion,' magical too?"

"Yes, a nutrient enhancer."

"Will it taste icky?"

"Yes."

"Can't I just take a multivitamin instead?" Harry asked. "Dudley has loads of chewables he won't take. Aunt Petunia used to hide 'em in his ice-cream, but he just spits 'em out."

"Your cousin doesn't lack for nutrition."

"He won't eat vegetables or fruit, so the doctor gave Aunt Petunia vitamins for him. But he won't take them either."

"The potion isn't a vitamin. It helps reverse past effects of minor vitamin deficiency, and to prevent it in the future by enhancing the effects of the nutrients in your food." The boy thought for a moment. "The addition of muggle vitamins may have some merit. We'll take both."

Harry wrinkled his nose. His new brother was bossy.


Severus bottled the potion. His mother had taught it to him some years ago, after the mill closed and with it the neighborhood grocery store. He further modified the potion when he noticed one of his impoverished students had minor vitamin decencies. The child's father was a deatheater and imprisoned, the family's wealth confiscated, and his mother less than sane upon her release from Azkaban. At each meal he had the elves slip it into the boy's food.

His own childhood was less than stellar, but unlike Harry, he never went hungry. The processed muggle food he grew up on was anything but nutritious, though. His father didn't drive, and his mother didn't have the magical strength to apparate, so groceries were limited to the small corner market. Until Hogwarts, he rarely had the luxury of fresh fruit, meat, or a salad. To combat this, his mother gave him the potion every evening before dinner.

He'd just finished cleaning up when the bedroom door banged and the doorknob juggled. "Boys! Unlock this damn door! Now!"

He glanced over at Harry as he unlocked the door. His eyes were as wide as saucers. "I think we're in trouble for my clothes."

"What kind of crap were you two trying to pull, making a scene in the store this afternoon?" Vernon's voice was purple. Each word was punctuated by a fat finger in Severus's face. "I told you, not to upset my wife!"

"Harry needed clothing," he stated, not impressed by Vernon's bluster. "The hand-me-downs Petunia supplied were insufficient."

"Those 'insufficient' clothes you turned your nose up at are expensive brand name designers."

"They didn't fit him."

"I'm not paying for two sets of clothing!" Vernon shouted spittle flying from his mouth. From down the hall, Dudley watched, smirking. "They're going back to the store!"

"Harry's ratty clothing will attract unwanted attention." Severus switched tactics, playing on the man's fears. "For the price of one pair of your son's brand name trainers, this set of clothing will make your nephew look neat and respectable for the school year. I'd say that's a bargain."

Vernon's left eye twitched.

"He'll bend in with the other children. He'll look normal, respectable."

"Now see here you ungrateful little brat, I work hard for the money to put a roof over your head and food on the table." This time Vernon suspected he was being manipulated, and he didn't like it. He wanted to get the last word in. "I won't be pushed into wasting money on you!"

"Thank you for the clothes, Uncle Vernon," Harry humbly said. "I really like them, and I'll work off the money with chores."

"Err, well, you're welcome, boy." Vernon's anger seemed to deflate in on itself, and he turned to leave. "And you can start by washing that car like I told you to do this morning. Petunia's car too. Don't forget to vacuum the crumbs out of the back seats."

Severus's estimation of Harry raised a notch. With a simple 'thank you' the boy diffused the situation and reminded the man of the chores the boy did. From what he could tell, the boy's mind wasn't analytical or calculating like his. Harry, like his mother before him, possessed an innate intuition he envied. Severus relied on Legilimency to read and understand people, but Harry did it effortlessly.

Seeing other people easily do what he struggled to do irritated him. "Good job."

"He just wanted to feel appreciated. I don't think Dudley ever says thanks." Harry shrugged. "We better hurry and wash the cars, before Aunt Petunia makes him change his mind."


Severus has never been to a muggle school. He'd been home schooled by his mother, and then later was self-motivated to learn through his mother's old schoolbooks, before Hogwarts. So he wasn't sure what to expect.

The muggle linoleum floors, chalkboard and cork covered walls, and plastic-covered desks met his imagination. What he wasn't sure about was the level of knowledge he needed to display in order to blend in.

"I don't know," Petunia tersely said to the lady behind the counter. "Apparently he was home schooled. He's the same age as Harry and Dudley. I imagine he belongs in that year."

"I don't have an immunization record for a Stephen Prince. Otherwise, the paperwork seems to be in order, but it's odd that he's not in the database," the woman looked at something on a computer screen, a box not too dissimilar to the one Dudley played games on. "I also see that the school nurse referred Harry to an optometrist. This will need to be taken care of before the first day. Both boys will need their medical files updated before then."

"That's not necessary, is it? Who gets polio or the measles in this day and age?"

Severus's head snapped up. "I want the inoculations. All of them. I want to make sure Harry has had them too."

His mother almost died during a measles outbreak before he was born. It had damaged her magical core, rendering her to almost a squib, leaving her unable to function in both the muggle and magical worlds. If caught early, muggle illness posed no threat. But every once in a while, a muggle born would spark an outbreak of something and the magical community would have no immunity. There was always be casualties before Saint Mungos figured out the right potions.

Petunia glared at the boy. "I'll make the appointments for next week."

"You're a smart young man," the secretary commented. "I wished more people took the inoculations more seriously."

Petunia's glare deepened.

"There'll be no placement exams, as all students will also sit a pilot version of a Cognitive Abilities Test in several weeks. He'll also sit the SATs at the end of the year. For now Stephen will be placed in Harry's class. Dudley will be moved to Mrs. Clark's class."

"No! I don't want to go to Mrs. Clark's class! Send them to her class!"

The woman sighed. "We feel that both Harry and Dudley would benefit from some separation."

"Have you been causing problems, again?" Petunia hissed at Harry.

Harry's eyes widened, as he shook his head, afraid he was in trouble again. "No."

"I'm not sure how or why Harry climbed to the top of the school last May, but separating the two boys will surely be beneficial. It seems that Harry's misbehavior is precipitated by interactions with his cousin."

"So send those two! I don't want to leave my friends. They don't have any friends anyway."

"Mrs. Clarks classroom is a little bit more advanced than Mrs. Smyth's. Of the two, Dudley's scores are consistently higher. And for Stephen, as he hasn't taken the aptitude tests, we're forced to place him in Mrs. Smyth's class."

Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry. There was no way in hell Harry was dumber than that lumbering oaf. Either Dudley cheated, or more likely, Harry didn't perform to his fullest potential. Academic dishonesty nearly topped the list of things that irked him. He'd have to break Harry of the habit.

"Did you hear that sweetie?" Petunia gushed with pride. "Why wasn't Dudley put there in the first place?"

"Stephen's enrolment caused the class to have too many students, while Mrs. Clark's class had a few openings."

It didn't take Legilimency for Severus to know the true reason was that this Mrs. Clark didn't want either boy in her class, as there were 'a few openings' in the class. However, Petunia didn't question the explanation.

"I'm so proud of you!" Petunia's irritation at Harry and Severus forgotten as she gathered up Severus's registration paperwork. "I know someone who's getting a special dinner tonight!"

Dudley sulked, his arms crossed. He perked up a bit at the mention of food though.

"So we're settled? Stephen will bring his immunization paperwork on the first day. Harry still needs to see an optometrist."

"Yes, of course. Come along sweetie. Boys, move."

"Can we get pizza?" Dudley whined.