Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me. Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling.

Beta: LemonyCrosby (XD)

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Chapter 5

Coming to a stop as he saw the house, he threw his darkest glare at it. He was not an agreeable man – his students would attest to that. He definitely could not stand children. He sure as hell hated the name Potter and anything linked to it. Add them up together and anyone could see that he was the worse choice to escort Harry Potter to Diagon Alley.

Obviously Dumbledore wasn't anyone.

Taking a look at his surroundings, he suppressed a sneer. It looked so boring. He didn't think anyone could live in such places. Their lives must be extremely monotonous. 'What do they do everyday? Eat, study, sleep and gossip?' he thought, making a face at that thought.

He strode towards the house, reapplying the spells to make sure that no drop of rain touches him. Hiding a wince when the thunder cracked a little too loudly for comfort, he pressed the doorbell. And again.

He sneered at the doorbell, all the while thinking of ways to murder the people living in the house who were apparently deaf. With a flick of his wrist, he was grabbing his wand.

Stepping back a few steps, he brought up his wand, uncaring if anyone saw him. He didn't think that anyone would be looking out of their window in that heavy storm, and even if someone did, they would most likely dismiss what they saw as fantasy. Furthermore, memory charms were awfully useful as well.

Bringing his wand down in a forceful slash, the door blasted open. He smirked when he heard screams erupting from the living room. 'Serves them right for not answering the door,' he thought snidely.

Stalking in his usual way, he winced at a shrill scream coming from a corner. Whipping his head around, his eyes narrowed when he spotted her. Lily's sister.

He recognized her after all the years. She held little to no similarity to her beautiful sister, though her contempt and jealousy for her sister knew no bounds. He remembered her. She was the one who made Lily cry at night, the one who made Lily miserable.

He held no pity for her.

Hearing whimpering from the other side of the room, his eyes flicked over. For once, he was glad of the training he had as a spy, or else he didn't think that he would be able to hide the look of disgust. Merlin, were those…whales?

"W-who are y-you? Why a-are you h-here?" a hysterical scream broke into his ears, snapping him out of his incredulity.

He turned his fiercest glare towards her, making her flinch. Giving a cursory glance around the room, he noted that the boy he was looking for wasn't there. Unless… No. A Potter wouldn't have blond hair, and probably would not have a whale-like structure. He hoped.

"Where's Harry Potter?" he growled softly, his voice carrying across the room, cutting through the tense and terrified atmosphere.

He saw Petunia's eyes widen in realization, her eyes glancing at his robes now with a startled recognition as her fingers rose in an accusatory pose. Her chin began to tremble in fear as her mouth opened to shriek, "You! A bunch of freaks! Get out of my –"

His eyes narrowed, the last of his patience snapping. Taking a predatory step forward, he purred dangerously, "I'm sure you don't want any trouble, Muggle. Give me the boy and I assure you I'll never come back willingly again!"

Petunia's mouth snapped shut at the man's dark glare, staring terrified at him for a moment, her whole frame trembling with fear. Slowly, she pointed her trembling hand towards the hallway.

"T-the c-cupboard," she stuttered, as she crumpled onto the floor, her whole frame shuddering with fear, her eyes wide as she continued to stare at him, as though paralyzed. He sneered at her, before whirling on his heels and headed towards the direction she pointed to.

He refused to acknowledge the rising dread within him at Petunia's words. He had firmly believed that the Potter brat would be so well taken care of that he most likely would be extremely spoilt, and nothing could shake him out of that particular belief.

At least, that was what he believed until he saw the cupboard door. It was so small, with a tiny barred window allowing in the minimal ventilation. It reminded him painfully of his childhood, the beatings that he still felt, the darkness that was always there, and the loneliness that never left him. He clenched his fists, chasing those thoughts out of his mind hastily.

Squashing any sprouting feelings ruthlessly, he grabbed the door open just as the thunder crashed again.

His breath caught as he saw him. The first thought was that Harry Potter was small. So small that he wasn't quite able to match him with the saviour of the Wizarding World, so small that he wondered if this was really James Potter's son.

The second thought was that the boy looked so thin, so malnourished. He thought he saw faded bruises on his arms and face, but he couldn't be sure. He wore clothes so tattered and over-sized that it totally enveloped the small frame of the boy, accentuating his fragility. Once again, he wondered if the boy was really Harry Potter.

When their eyes met, however, his whole world spun, his delusions of Harry Potter having a prince's life finally shattering.

Those were Lily's eyes, bright and vibrant. Those were Lily's eyes, brilliantly emerald. Those were Lily's eyes, flashing with defiance as they looked at him.

Yet, they were dark, so filled with pain, so full of weariness, and so jaded. The hope that flickered in those eyes now seemed so out of place.

They bore a soul so burdened, a soul so steeped in despair, a soul so old that it didn't belong in a body so young and fragile. It reminded him so deeply of the same eyes he saw every morning as he looked into the mirror. Harry Potter reminded him of himself.

It bothered him that Lily's son should be like that, should be treated like how he was treated in the past. It bothered him deeply.

Shaking himself internally, he snapped out of his reverie.

He barked at Potter loudly, hoping to cover his slightly shaking voice. "Potter, aren't you. I'm a professor of Hogwarts. Professor Snape. Now, let's get out of here. I don't want to stay in this filthy Muggle place for too long."

He regretted his harsh tone slightly when he saw the boy flinch. His regret turned into shock and disbelief as the boy retorted impetuously, "Prove it."

Scowling, he reluctantly pulled out his wand as he internally cursed Potter. Speaking out loudly to make sure the brat caught the incantation, he lighted up his wand. A sense of pride for magic filled him when he saw Potter's eyes lighting up. Raising an eyebrow, he snapped, "Now are you coming or not?"

He turned swiftly and headed back towards the direction he came from, his ears registering the quick scrambling and light pattering of feet as Potter followed him hastily. He ignored the whimpering Muggles in the living room, and the distrustful eyes that the Potter brat still gave him, albeit more muted, and gave a soft, frustrated sigh as he stepped out of the house.

He had his work cut out for him, he decided.

--

He almost laughed as he saw the Professor's expression when he asked him to prove the existence of magic. He couldn't have expected him to trust just anyone he saw, or anything anyone said, especially something as unbelievable as magic. Though, he should have been more careful than to just follow the man, but he couldn't help himself.

He didn't realize it immediately at first, but when he met him for the first time in the room, he felt a slight tingling spreading throughout his body, like something welcoming him. There weren't any questions about the man being the real thing when he felt that. He would have to research to see if that was normal.

He scanned the appearance of the Professor, noting the weird clothing he wore immediately. They reminded him of bathroom robes, and he instantly remembered from the scarce fairy tales he had in the past that wizards and witches wore robes, which was probably what the Professor wore.

"Boy."

The gruff voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he came to a quick halt just inches before crashing onto Professor Snape. Glancing around quickly, he realized that they had entered an alley. He silently berated himself for not noticing his surroundings.

Taking in a deep breath, Harry knew that it would be his first step in doing something for himself. Holding himself respectfully, he straightened himself as he looked straight into the Professor's obsidian-black eyes.

"I would prefer if you don't call me boy, Professor. I do have a name," he said neutrally, his eyes flashing with slight displeasure at the reminder of his uncle.

The man scrutinized him for a moment, making him feel slightly uncomfortable. Still, he held his own, not once breaking his gaze into the man's eyes. He had his own share of being bullied, and he refused to be treated as such in the new world he was about to enter.

There was a short pause, before the Professor spoke again. "Very well. Potter, then."

Surprised, his eyes couldn't help but widen. He didn't really expect the Professor to acquiesce to his request. Remembering his manners, he gave a quick tilt of his head, replying softly, "Thank you, Professor."

As his eyes rose to meet the Professor's once again, he saw a flash of surprise in his eyes, though it had been so quick that he wondered if he had imagined it. Before he could harp on it though, Professor Snape's next words caught his attention.

"Potter, I will be apparating the both of us near to the Wizarding area known as Diagon Alley. It is an area hidden from the sight of Muggles. Do you know anything about apparating?"

Harry shook his head, giving a quick reply, "No sir, and…" he hesitated for a moment before blurting out curiously, "What's Muggles?"

The professor gave him a strange look, before continuing in his deep voice. "Muggles are non-magical folks, like the scum you live with. Apparating is the magic of moving from one place to another instantly. A useful skill, however, it is not a skill to be learnt until you are seventeen. It may feel uncomfortable to users unused to it."

Harry gave a quick nod, and before he could open his mouth to ask any questions, the Professor cut in. "If you understand, then we shall be on our way. I have no time or patience to deal with such matters, especially for brats like you."

Harry found that he didn't really mind neither the sneer placed on Professor Snape's face nor his cutting words. Somehow or another, he didn't find it offensive. Rather, he felt awfully familiar towards this man, or rather; the man seemed familiar to him. He almost snorted at the thought of it. He couldn't believe he thought that of a man he just met.

The Professor placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, and before he could react to the sudden touch, his whole body felt like being squeezed into a small pipe and spun around. He distinctly heard a loud crack announcing their sudden departure from the alley.

Harry was surprised at the familiar feeling of being squeezed. It was exactly what he felt during the few times he was being teleported away from danger. With another loud crack, a new scene appeared in front of him. He blinked a few times, trying to wait out the dizzy feeling he had in his head, and the nauseous feeling he had in the pit of his stomach.

When the world stopped turning, Harry glanced around. He thought he recognized the streets he was in – the newspapers he managed to steal from the Dursleys had lots of pictures.

With a start, he realized that he could no longer see the Professor. A flutter of black caught his attention, and when he turned his head around, he saw him striding around the corner.

Harry scowled deeply. There he thought Professor Snape was there to escort him, and yet there the Professor was, walking off on his own. "He's a real loner," he muttered, before realization hit him, and he whispered bitterly, "Then again, so am I."

Shaking his head slightly, he began to chase after the Professor.

--

"That's the entrance to the Wizarding World?" Harry questioned skeptically. That…run-down, shabby-looking, lopsided…entrance?

"As much as I hate to recognize that…deplorable-looking tavern as one of the entrances to the Wizarding World, it is still a yes to your question," he drawled.

"Well, alright. I suppose we should get going?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Wait." The warning tone in Professor Snape's voice stopped him. Raising an eyebrow curiously, Harry waited for him.

Severus paused for a while, contemplating if he should ask the boy, no Potter. He was rather surprised when the boy requested politely if he could be called by his name, rather expecting that the boy would demand it out rudely, habit from his delusions. It was as though…Potter didn't expect his request would be acquiesced to.

Another reminder of Potter's home life flashed in his mind, and he forcibly pushed it down to the depths again, for the umpteenth time.

"Professor?"

His attention snapped back to the waiting boy. He scowled when he saw the blasted ragged clothes of his. Despite the fact that he held no love for the boy, he still felt the urge to just push him into a clothing store and buy him anything that fits and was clean.

Sighing internally, Severus once again cursed Dumbledore. He hated this particular aspect of the job, especially when he had to deal with a Potter.

"What do you know about your past?"

Harry's eyes widened at the question, surprised that someone would offer the information.

"Nothing, sir."

Professor Snape sneered at his answer, though it wasn't directed at him.

"I expected no less. I didn't really think that the filthy Muggles would tell you, what with most of them being brainless. What did they tell you?"

A dark look flitted across Harry's face as he muttered, "Even if I were the world's biggest fool, I wouldn't believe what they told me."

Severus felt fury boiling within him as he heard Potter's next words, and it took all of his control to not turn back to the Dursley residence and murder them all.

"Petunia told me they died in a car crash, Vernon told me they died from overdose of drugs, and Dudley told me they committed suicide. Bloody people," Harry sneered, his face twisting into a taunting and bitter expression, marring the otherwise angelic looks.

Harry took a deep breath to curb the rising resentment welling within him, and before he could continue, Professor Snape cut in, speaking in a low, dangerous tone, his face twisted in an enraged snarl, voice full of venom. "Your mother had been the bravest woman I ever met, a mother you would have been proud to have. She sacrificed her life for you, and faced the Dark Lord with no fear. She died an honourable death, nothing like the…committed suicide, or drug use or even the car crash your filthy relatives said to you."

Harry was startled at the passion and anger radiating from the man's body, dumbstruck at the furious expression now creeping into his face. He could practically feel the atmosphere tensing up, the air surrounding the both of them stilling.

Professor Snape seemed to be engrossed with his emotions as he hissed, "Your parents were murdered, Potter, murdered by the Dark Lord, who in turn was brought down by you. That's why you are famous as the Boy-Who-Lived." By that time, his eyes were blazing, slightly unfocused as he stared at the spot above Harry.

Needless to say, Harry was rather unnerved. He didn't think the cool, uncollected, and insulting Professor could turn into this…raging maniac instantly. He seriously wondered who his mother had been to him. Not that he would ask; he had a feeling that it was a forbidden topic.

Thinking on the Professor's rant, his eyes widened at the amount of information he received. Questions continuously flooded his mind as he thought about the information given to him. His parents were murdered by a… dark lord? Who was this dark lord? And, he brought this Lord down? How? Wasn't he just a child at that time?

"How?"

Harry's soft voice penetrated through the tense atmosphere, and instantly the Professor snapped back to his usual self, or even more closed-off than usual. He now had an icy, frigid aura around him as he stared at Harry neutrally, his eyes showing no emotions, no hint of whatever had raged within him a few seconds before.

"Your parents were killed by the Dark lord, and when the Dark lord cast the Killing curse on you, the curse rebounded, killing him in the process, and giving you that scar of yours. No one knows why, and it is because of that feat that you became famous. You brought down a megalomaniac who brought terror to the whole of the Wizarding population, and saved them from more deaths."

"What's this…Dark Lord's name?" he questioned, cocking his head to the side as he contemplated the answers given.

"His name is not freely spoken, Potter, and I will urge you to not do so in front of the masses. People call him You-Know-Who, but his name is Voldemort."

Harry nodded, before something struck him. 'I'm famous for something I haven't done? For being a murderer?' He then stopped and thought for a while, before questioning the Professor shrewdly.

"That's just the public story isn't it? Will you tell me the true story?"

Professor Snape glared at him, before his expression morphed into a blank stare, and he straightened himself, speaking coldly, "It is not my story to tell."

Harry narrowed his eyes, his fists clenched as anger flooded him. He couldn't believe what he had been told. It was his life story wasn't it! Shouldn't he be told of the complete truth? Before he could open his mouth and shout though, the Professor cut in with a harsh voice.

"Don't be impudent, brat. You will be just like that arrogant prick of your father if you assume the whole world would defer to you."

With that, Professor Snape drew his black robes around him tightly, before he whirled on his heels and headed back towards the Wizarding World entrance, his shoes clicking softly on the pavement.

Harry gaped after him, surprised at his words. It took a few seconds before he could think properly again and for his anger to ebb away.

His only thought left was, 'Does he happen to hate my father? It would actually explain the nasty attitude he has towards me…' He wondered confusedly. Then he gave a small laugh, his thoughts veering to another direction, 'Right, he's probably nasty to everyone.'

With that question in mind, he quickly followed the black-robed man who was already far ahead.

--

The tavern was crowded, everyone jostling each other, trying to make their way across. Noise erupted from everywhere, the loud laughter and incessant chatter sounding from every corner. The musty smell of beer, sweat and food lingered strongly in the air, causing Harry to nearly choke. He tried to draw himself into the shadows so as to not knock into anyone, but Professor Snape's voice stopped him.

"Walk straight ahead to the exit, Potter. I want to get out of this deplorable place as soon as possible."

Before he could take a step though, an energetic voice sounded somewhere near the Professor.

"Professor Snape! What great occasion is this, for you to climb out of that hole you live in?" Harry turned around to see a woman wearing deep blue robes sashaying towards them, giving a lopsided grin as she twirled a strand of her brown hair round her finger.

Professor Snape stiffened slightly, his expression cold and aloof as he spoke.

"Miss Finch. Although you are no longer my student, I would prefer it if you treat me with the same respect as you did when you were still studying." Amid all the noise in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Snape's voice had no problem cutting through the din. Smirking slightly, Harry thought, 'Point proven.'

The lady gave a shrug, batting a quick wink, before glancing over to Harry. Her brown eyes widened with surprise as she walked closer. Professor Snape gave her a look, making her wince slightly. Nonetheless, she continued her progress towards the both of them, stooping slightly as she stared carefully at Harry.

Harry simply stood his ground, his eyes now daring her to come closer, his stance turning defensive. As though getting the hint, the lady stopped in her tracks.

"Who do we have here? Your relative? He doesn't look like you though… Oh!" The last word came out in a scream of surprise, her finger rising to point at Harry, or rather his forehead, her face twisted in an expression of shocked surprise. Harry thought detachedly that surprise didn't suit the lady's looks – it made her look ugly.

Her scream, though, caught the notice of everyone nearby.

"H-Harry P-Potter!" A strangled scream erupted from her throat, her eyes now filled with burning devotion and admiration. Professor Snape stiffened and hissed lowly, "Shit."

As though the world stopped turning, silence suddenly filled the whole tavern, and everyone's heads turned to face the raven-haired boy. Harry bit his lip, his eyes flitting from left to right, trying to look for an escape. He didn't know what was going to happen, and he refused to take chances.

Cheers erupted. Harry blinked at the sudden influx of noise, reflexively covering his ears with his hands. He dimly heard his name being called again and again, gaining volume every time. 'Why in the world are they cheering my name – Oh,' Harry thought, a figurative light bulb popping up in his head.

He was famous in the Wizarding World. Famous for something he hadn't done, famous for being an orphan, famous for being a murderer, famous for losing his parents to an evil Lord. He was held up on a pedestal just because his mother sacrificed for him.

A sudden rage flooded him. He didn't deserve this fame. If anything, the fame should go to his parents, who protected him. He rather he had his parents than have that bloody fame. He would rather he wasn't an orphan, neglected and bullied by his relatives. He rather he had a loving family, who would believe in him, support him and love him.

A bitter feeling spread through him as they cheered louder and louder, all of them wearing excited smiles and delighted expressions. He didn't share the delight. He wanted this fame to go away. He wanted these people to go away.

He didn't need anymore reminders on how lonely a life he led.

When an over-enthusiastic wizard lunged forward to grab his hand in a handshake, he pulled back, his expression icy-cold and filled with hatred. His magic swept across the tavern, silencing almost all of the people in there, most of them shivering from the sudden wash of magic over them. Harry didn't seem to notice the effect he caused though, simply speaking icily.

"Excuse me. I'm busy."

Despite having a small frame, despite wearing tattered clothes and being untidy and dirty, Severus had to admit that Harry Potter looked regal and untouchable as he cut through the crowd with his head held high, eyes burning warningly. He left Leaky Cauldron by the exit heading towards Diagon Alley.

The untouchable aura, disgust and despise rolled off him, leaving even the most cheerful people in Leaky Cauldron wary and guilty for something they didn't know. The intoxicating power lingered in the air as Harry strode out, making many look dazedly around, some shuddering slightly.

As he hurried after him, he ignored the surprise he felt over Potter's rejection and hatred of the fame, and at the previous display of power.

He did not want to dwell on Potter's behaviour, especially when he acted so unGryffindorish from the moment he met him till then.

Neither did he want to think about the rather impressive scene in the tavern.

Revised: 1/1/10

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-Myxa