Well, I hope you are all enjoying it, this story has gotten thousand of hits already but only 12 reviews, come on people, if you have any ideas that you would like me to incorporate as well I do not mind, after all I like to write what other people want to read!

Of boundaries and broom cupboards

He started to wonder what to do with the child now he found himself laden with him. If Harry Potter did not know where his relatives were he could not return him to them. They were back in three weeks he'd said, he would return him then and monitor him for a while to see if the abuse he suspected was going on really was abuse. If this was the case, well he'd have to alert Dumbledore so he could sort out alternative living quarters for the child, perhaps at Hogwarts. Well it seemed there was only one thing he could do until then.

"I'll be your guardian until your relatives return," he announced with a decisive nod which offered no room for question, it was the only feasible solution. "Follow me," he got up and swept out the room, the child, still in a daze, followed him. "This is my room," he pointed at a closed door, "you will not go in there at any time for any reason unless I tell you to," and that was never going to happen, his room was his and his only. He gestured towards a staircase going down, "stay out of the cellar at all times unless I am present." He had important and some dangerous potions down there, he did not need Potter to go and mess it all up.

He pointed to the door across the corridor, perhaps the only one the child should be interested in, "this is the guest bedroom, the one you will be staying in. It has not seen an occupant for a few years, but it has always been kept ready for one." Yes, the house elves were always zealous in their attempts to please him, possibly because he was very non committal in his role as master. He did not beat them or anything horrendous like that but he did not even nod in acknowledgement to them, again he was not sure why, it was just the way he had always been. "You will keep it tidy and clean, it is your responsibility, I do not tolerate sloppiness."

He knew he was snapping at a child, and he had not even done anything wrong. He was also one that probably did not react well to harsh voices, but he was Potter Spawn, even if he did act like Lily, he was bound to cause mischief sooner or later. Oh he knew that him being the son of James did not licence him to be cruel, but he was not throwing him back out on the streets or anything. His promise to Lily made many years ago but still help strong meant that he had to protect him; he didn't have to like him.

"Breakfast is at seven o clock, lunch is at one and dinner at six. You will eat at the table in the dining room," he pointed at it, "for all three meals. If you are but five minutes late for any one then you shall go without." He was not sure if he was serious about that rule, the child was far too skinny for an eight year old as it was, he could not afford to be missing meals, well he'd said it now, he could not go back on it, he was strict by nature. "Don't touch things that are not in your room without my permission. You will address me as either sir or professor Snape, you will do exactly what I say when I say it, do I make myself clear?"

He pointed to the couch, "stay there until I get back." He waited until Harry had silently plopped himself down and he apparated. There was nobody on the street of Privet drive when he appeared there seconds later apart from one little girl with a skipping rope. He obliviated her memory without even looking her way and she happily continued on her way none the wiser. He stepped up to the door of the house with a keen eye. Harry had left it open when he left, it swung open with the slightest push. It was extremely well kept, not a speck of dust to be seen anywhere, how... middle class. Well he was not here to speculate, he was here to gather his belongings, at least a few clothes, and a book or two and get back.

He started his search, he crept into the living room not entirely sure why he was skulking about, the house was most definitely empty, no relatives, and no baby sitter. He scanned the wall of family photos, he found it was strange that he saw no pictures of Harry there, but he had heard from the boy himself there was a very real possibility he was unwanted here. There was no love for him, but it made his blood boil that he had been subjected to abuse at such a young age. It would seem so far that permanent different living situations would have to be sorted and he was staying with him for the time being, he could hardly send a child back to an empty house. He did not exactly want him to be unhappy, but he had no intention of giving him an easy time.

He moved from the lounge to the kitchen, there was nothing of interest there. He moved through to the hallway, there seemed to be nothing here that resembled what might belong to Potter here either, though coats hung on hooks here there wasn't one that would fit Harry, they were all too large and too colourful. It was the same with shoes, they were all lined up by the door, clean and polished but there was not one pair that would fit Harry's tiny feet, he could not be bigger than a size twelve and all of these were massive. The one pair that were nearly Harry's size were stained and frayed, much like the shoes he'd been wearing when he'd plucked him from the Thames, but then he'd thought the river was responsible for their condition.

He ran up the stairs, and looked into each room in turn, his slight frown becoming an open scowl. One of them was a bathroom, again he saw only adult toothbrushes and one child's toothbrush and it was some Disney animal. He doubted this was Harry's, why provide a child with no love but then throw ten pounds away on a novelty toothbrush, and if it was Harry's, then he was getting something different, he was not having that in his house. One of the rooms was the master bedroom; one of them contained clothes that would only fit an elephant, thrown haphazardly around the room amongst gaming gadgets and toys. The other bedroom was empty save a load of broken toys, no clothes, no pictures, no sign of a child living in it.

He frowned, Dumbledore did not lie to him, he knew for sure that the boy was here, what was more he had seen pictures of an older 'Tuney' and her fat oaf of a husband, and her elephant of a son in pictures on the lounge wall. Harry had been kept here, not at all happy or even looked after adequately, but he'd been here, so why could he not find his room? He trudged back down the stairs somewhat dejected and let his short fuse burn out; he punched the banister in anger. Dust floated down the railings, for some reason, that angered him more, he punched the door to the cupboard under the stairs, "damn it!" He growled.

He had not meant to put magic behind the punch, but it was enough to take the door off one of its hinges and it caved inwards. He lifted up the door to fix it back in place but happened to see the contents of the little room and stood stock still. "What in the name of Merlin?" He muttered. This was where and how the boy-who-lived grew up? Not even his childhood had been quite that bad, he would not even subject a dog to such poor conditions. Wasn't Petunia meant to be Lily's sister? Blood? The sweet girl would be rolling in her grave if she knew. He blinked before letting his face set like stone, no, this would not do at all.

There was hardly any room in here at all; the piece of paper with 'Harry's room' written in green crayon clearly indicated that this was where the boy had been living. There was a mattress on the floor, yellow and thin, that was all the bedding there was. There were no toys bar a few broken wooden figurines. There were no cuddly ones like teddy bears or blankets that he would expect a young boy to own. He had ample clothes, but they were all too big for him, like the ones he'd been wearing when he'd found him, most of them were dyed grey. The room stank like stale sweat, old blood and bodily waste; he wrinkled his nose, disgusting.

Well he couldn't very well give the child any of these clothes, none of them fit. Not to mention he would not have a child under his care, no matter how short a period that was going to be wearing rags that he'd end up tripping over, he certainly wouldn't take him out into public wearing them. The clothes Potter had been wearing when he'd found him, though torn up from the river looked as if they had originally been rather presentable, but there were no others in here that even came close. He would have to buy some more for him, he was sure the money could be squeezed out of his relatives at a later date, after all, they had been receiving support to keep him, and if not, well it was the one thing he wasn't short of.

His mother had left him quite a lot of inheritance as he had been the only one she really cared about and his father had done the same though the reason was somewhat grim. Seeming as he had not left a will leaving it to anyone else as his anger and his alcohol had been the only things that mattered, the entirety of the Snape fortune, which was not massive but enough to get by comfortably, landed with him. While his teacher's salary was not huge, he did get extra money for being a head of house, supplying potions for the healing wing and teaching a core subject. Seeming as he'd only had himself to support for many years, his money had simply not been spent, he certainly had the resources to temporarily care for a child, if nothing else.

He gave the cupboard a more thorough inspection. There were biscuits and chocolate bars stored around the cramped space, under the mattress, behind broken toys, in between the covers of the books. Hmm, he was saving up, preparing for when he knew his relatives would lock him up in there with nothing to eat, clever. Well he hardly needed to take those with him, they weren't healthy anyway and if Potter desired sugar, and that was very likely seeming as he had been surviving on it for God knows how long, that's what happens when you leave an infant to look after themselves, he would provide it, in moderation. He looked once more at the door to the cupboard, the lock was heavy duty, he should have noticed something was amiss before, with the fall of the dark lord, his spy skills had grown rusty.

The books were a surprising find, and confusingly, he had plenty of them. A couple were fictional but a good deal of them were educational, some of the textbooks were even beyond what an eight year old should be able to read. Pages of written work some with a couple of chocolate smears on them lay strewn around in the small, cramped space. It seemed strange that his relatives would fail to provide him with a bedroom or adequate clothes or even enough food, but care so much about his education, he even had a rather nice pen and his hand writing wasn't half bad either. Seeming as they were the only valuable things of Potter's in the house he reduced them in size, pocketed them and apparated back.

Potter had not moved from where he'd left him. He sat on the sofa and looked as though he had not moved a muscle. Severus had not been gone long, but already he was dropping off, Snape frowned, it was only late afternoon, and he'd already had a nap. Maybe it was the shock of all that had happened today sinking into his child frame, or maybe it was the effect of having, quite possibly, the first decent meal in his life. Snape's reappearance made him snap up again, looking nervous as if sleep was some crime. He looked at him in an apprehensive way, as if he was awaiting an order; it took a while for Snape to figure it out. "You can move now, Potter," he said and rolled his eyes when he shot straight to the bathroom, "kids."

When he had said 'don't move' he hadn't meant 'a muscle', he meant don't leave the house until he figured out what to do with him. It was dangerous for a child, especially him to wander around alone; although it was clear he'd done it before and would do it again. It would seem he was going to have to be more specific with the idiot boy; funnily enough it was not to restrict him, but to give him freedom. Once Harry had returned he drew the books out of his pocket and threw them at him. Once they were in his hands he returned them to their size. "These were the only things of yours I could find that were of any value," he said, Harry just stood there and looked at them, "well don't just stand there, go and put them in your room."

Harry looked down, what possible reason did the child have to be embarrassed, except the whole cupboard thing? "Oh, they are not mine, Professor Snape," he said in a small voice, was that longing in his voice? What normal child loved schoolwork? Or maybe when he went to school he found friends and peace, and missed it.

"They were in your... room," it was not right to call it that but he did not want to demean the child already by reminding him of where he had lived for the past eight years, no, there would plenty of time for that.

"I did Dudley's schoolwork for him, he could not be bothered, it was one of my chores, but I learnt a lot so it was a good thing."

'Dudley', that must be the cousin his age Dumbledore had mentioned. Snape could not even bring himself to be surprised at this news. "Well they are yours now because I say so, so go and put them away." It could not be denied that his thin lips twitched at Harry's beaming face as he carried his books to his new room. Children were such interesting creatures to consider whatever comes out of an adult's mouth the truth.