The Raven and The Serpent
Chapter 10: The Decision Process (or lack therof)

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Severus Snape nearly bit down on his lip; there was no decision to be made. That damn fool had already made it for both him and the two little brats. They were not going anywhere and neither could he throw them out; he'd be hunted by both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord, well as soon as the Dark Lord returned, of which Severus had few doubts that he wouldn't. There would be hell to pay for all Death Eaters.

Therefore, the biggest problem for him, was not Dumbledore's madly twinkling eyes or Voldemort's future wrath; it was how they were all going to survive the next couple of weeks. If he somehow didn't kill them, he was quite sure they would kill him; they could see a weakness in him that he was sure he had hid…How? Why?

Why? That damned question kept coming back to him.

Why were they living on the streets?

Why were their deaths faked?

Why did they bond with each other?

Why, why did they have those words carved into their arms?

And finally, why was this all so hard to figure out?

Severus tried not to think himself a cunning man; overestimation is likely to get one killed, but at the very least, he thought he was an intelligent man. So how come he could not come up with any answers?

Good one. A question for a question.

Shut up.

No.

…

Maybe, just maybe, it's because you don't want to know. The answer's right in front of you, but you just don't care enough to look at it. Running away, a cry for attention or a cry for help? Perhaps a combination of the two? Faking their deaths, strange, perhaps an escape of some sort? That could mean fear…The carvings of their arms is an obvious sign of abuse, in the girl's case it might be more.

Severus's eyes snapped open. The bonding was a sign of desperation, to keep them together when everything was falling apart. The marks, the anger, the tenderness they only showed to each other, the ability for reading people and their use of Old Magic would only mean one thing…

He grit his teeth. He couldn't do it. He wouldn't do it. Hell, he didn't want to spend one day with two messed-up, abused, street kids (one a Potter's relative and a Potter nonetheless!) who act like they know everything and believe they have the power to do whatever they deem suitable.

He. Was. Not. A. Babysitter. He was head of the Slytherin house, full of messed up children of which he did not babysit either. This was his vacation.

He crumpled the unused parchment upon his desk, squeezing it into his fist as hard as he could. He couldn't loose his temper or get drunk anymore than he could throw the children out, and that, that irritated him to no end.

He would watch the brats, maybe even study them, but there was no way he was going to be their shoulder to cry on.

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"I hate him," Harry said vehemently, picking up the crystal bits from the floor.

"You do not," Trisha said, rolling her eyes, not quite taking his anger to heart. She open a black garbage bag and held it underneath Harry's hands.

"I hate all adults." He harshly threw in the pieces.

"If you hate all adults that also means you like them all the same amount. You need someone to use as a hate scale, so you can measure out your hate."

Harry tilted his head, his eyes peering into Trisha's. "Hate scale," he began, arching an eyebrow, "is that a new idea intended to infuriate me?"

She grinned devilishly. "It was an idea that merely had that side effect. I solemnly swear that it was not my intention."

"You never intend to do anything and yet we're always somewhere where we don't want to be."

"Like here?" She asked putting all joking to the side.

"Exactly."

"Then why haven't we left yet?" She asked, her face a mask of stone.

"Because, because you don't seem to want to."

"Bullshit."

"Is that American swearing I hear?" he taunted.

Trisha glared at him. "You know what I mean. We always leave is one of us doesn't want to be wherever we are. We either both like it, or leave, and you have yet to try to leave. So why do you want to stay?"

"…"

Trisha folded her arms across her chest and mockingly tapped her foot against the wooden floor.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm tired of running."

"We've discussed this point," Trisha answered tiredly.

"He doesn't seem like the worst person in the world and it's not like he's just going to get rid of us. He might want to but the old man's got something good on him. It'll probably be worth it to stay. It doesn't mean…" He trailed off, his eyes glazing over.

"Doesn't mean you have to like him," Trisha finished half-heartedly. "At least he doesn't like us too much, those people are harder to scam."

"Only because you get a guilty heart," Harry replied with a grin. "The people you don't care for are in for hell and out of everything."

"Well it's hard to let such opportunities past by, especially when you get to ruin their day and brighten up yours. Speaking of which, did you have to break all the crystal?"

They were to here to stay.

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Three Magical days later…………….

The table just had to be small, much to their chagrin; it was a wooden square and only had enough room to seat one person at each edge. Harry and Trisha sat across from each other, picking at their food; they ate slowly and sporadically as if there was something wrong, but Severus noticed that they always ate like that, no matter what food they prepared themselves. They also tried extremely hard not to look him in the eye, or at him at all, for that matter, which contributed to a stuffy affair.

Severus, who was sitting across from no one (thankfully), felt something nagging at the back of his head. There was something about the two that was not quite right. He chewed the toast he had made, it was one of the few things he had learned how to make, and chanced a glance at the two. They were obviously ignoring him as best as they could, but they've done that for the past few days and it was not their best skill.

"So," he began and mentally chided himself; that was not a proper way to begin. He ignored the fact that both pairs of eyes stayed locked on their half-eaten food. "Why do you keep wearing the same muggle clothes everyday?"

Trisha, who was dressed in a pair of ripped blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt, looked up at him uncertainly. "The closet only had a variety of clothes the day we went to the restaurant, after that they all disappeared and these were the only ones left."

Severus cursed Dumbledore. "You mean to tell me, that neither of you have washed your clothes in three days?"

"We've gone a lot longer without washing our clothes," Harry replied without looking up.

"I see," Severus began. He would've berated them for not washing the clothes, but he had not seen a muggle device in the house to do such things. "I suppose this means we'll have to do some shopping today, since you also need your school supplies soon."

This time, Harry looked up sharply. He seemed to fight with himself before slowly answering, "But we have no money, at least not for a private school and such…"

"Are you daft, boy? You seriously think your parents left you without anything? And much to my pleasure," he twisted the word sardonically, "you are my charges and I will not have to unschooled and poorly dressed wizarding children besmirch the Snape name. We are going shopping today."

"Are you sure you just don't enjoy shopping, and being as you are, we are merely the best excuse to do so?" Trisha asked, her eyes sparkling with delight.

Severus glowered at the girl, who refused to back down and just sat there, grinning like an idiot.

"Forgive her, sir. She gets all giddy just thinking about shopping. It's in her nature."

Severus ignored the suave voice. "Shopping…or pick-pocketing?" he asked.

Trisha feigned hurt. "Such terrible things to say about a little girl," she gushed in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Severus winced; never again was he going to do that. Maybe he could turn them loose in Diagon Alley and he would be spared the torture. He could wait in a pub and the two would run off in the alley and do…He mentally swore, there was no way in hell he could release the terrible two into Diagon Alley alone.

He sighed. He was unfortunately and definitely going shopping with the two. The fates had to hate him. They just had to.

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A/N: Wow, sorry for the delay, but there's over five pages! So please review! (It inspires me to write more, especially now that I have time!)

REVIEW PLEASE!