Chapter 25: Precocious

"So are all – um – Shadows as close to their Owners as Braedon is to Draco?" Harry asked Mrs. Snape after breakfast one day. He knew that this was probably a painful subject for her and he had already asked a similar question of Snape, but it still troubled him. The problem was that he liked Braedon. In many ways, Braedon was much easier to understand than the rest of the Snape family. Harry liked Braedon, but he knew that there was no way that he could ever trust the young man because of his loyalty to Draco and the Malfoy family in general. Harry wasn't used to the sensation of liking people that he knew he couldn't trust.

Mrs. Snape winced and Harry wished that he had never asked the question. "You must think me a horrid mother," she said, sitting down at the kitchen table, "but really – it's not as bad as it seems. Shadows are often favored above all other Owned. I think even Lucius has a soft spot for his old Shadow."

"I didn't mean –" Harry began, distressed at having offended her, but she went on.

"Of course, not all Owners like their Shadows, but it is common and it is the idealized form of the relationship. I suppose it's about the same as with family, though – some Owners love their Shadows, but I've met Owners who really hate their former Shadows. Why, I even remember, when I was a child, there was quite a scandal when a boy named Sirius Black killed his Shadow."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Sirius Black?" he exclaimed in askance.

"Yes," she said, sadly, misunderstanding his surprise, "the same one who killed all those muggles years later. You know, at the time, everyone said it was an accident, and I believed them, but after hearing what he did as an adult – well, I have to wonder."

"How did he – how did he kill him?" Harry choked.

"He pushed him out of a third story window," came a deep voice from the doorway. Harry nearly jumped out of his seat, but it was only Snape.

"Cordelia, if you'd excuse us, I'd like to talk to Bryon alone, please."

She looked from one to the other in surprise. She had been paying little attention to the conversation, but now, she studied Harry intently. "You knew him?" she asked.

Harry didn't know how she could have picked that up, but he nodded numbly. "A bit."

"Cordelia," Snape said again and she got up and left. Snape sat down beside Harry.

"I wish that she hadn't told you that," he said, not looking at Harry.

Harry shrugged as though it didn't matter, though he felt horrible.

"If it makes you feel better, most people at the time really did believe that it was an accident."

"Do you think it was an accident?"

Snape hesitated. "I think that it depends on one's definition of the word 'accident'," he said finally. "I've seen Owners who play very – rough – with their Shadows, hurting them much more than they intend to. Many of them have never been taught to do any differently and they don't realize that they could seriously injure their Shadows. Knowing Black's exuberant personality and his insane family, it sounds like this is very likely what happened. Luckily, we have never had this problem with Draco – Lucius always made sure that he took care of Braedon, in the same way that one would take care of an expensive broom or a pony."

"Are you being nice to me?" Harry asked bitterly. "I know that you think Sirius was a cold-blooded murderer."

"I do think that, sometimes. But sometimes I think that he may have just been reckless and prone to getting into trouble. Of course, that still doesn't change the fact that he was a revolting idiot. After the accident," Snape went on, "your godfather was sent to live with his eccentric old uncle for a year, until the scandal died down. When he first came to Hogwarts he was a most unusual eleven-year-old. He had already developed ideologies that were in direct opposition to those of his family. I always thought that it must have been that event that did it – not many things will convince a pureblood child who has been surrounded by nothing but pureblood dogma all his life that everything he has ever been taught is wrong. Most are more like Draco was when you must have first met him."

Harry thought that this must have been another reason for the animosity between Snape and Sirius. "I'll bet that my father had Owned, as well," he said dully, thinking of it for the first time. If his father was from such a wealthy, old family then of course he would have Owned.

"No," Snape said. Harry looked at him. "Oh, you really should learn more about your family's history!" he grumbled. "Even Owned children, with such humble roots, can recite the accomplishments of their ancestors."

"You'll have to excuse me," Harry said sarcastically, "I've never had any family to teach it to me."

Snape sighed. "About a hundred years ago there was a major movement in the wizarding community to free all the Owned. At the forefront of this movement was John Potter – your great-great grandfather. The Potters were one of the richest families in the wizarding world. They had made a fortune in the broom business. Several people in the freedom movement decided to make an example by freeing all their Owned – your great-great grandfather was one of them."

"He freed his Owned?" Harry asked. Snape nodded. Harry gave a small smile, glad to learn something more, something good about his family.

"Of course there isn't a way to really free Owned. You can free an Owned person's children, but once the person takes the mark of an Owned, there will always be a connection between the Owner and the Owned. Potter certainly tried, though," Harry thought that he could detect just a hint of animosity in Snape's voice, "he let all of his Owned do whatever they liked and he didn't create any new Owned."

"So if there were people doing this a hundred years ago … why aren't all the Owned free?"

"A variety of reasons," Snape said, after thinking about it for a moment. "One was that wizards who freed their Owned, like John Potter often went bankrupt, not being able to compete with businesses and companies that didn't have to pay their employees. Your ancestors were luckier than many – their business was bought out by Nimbus and they retained most of their fortune. Another reason was that the focus of many social rights activist groups shifted to rights for muggleborns – who were both a much more vocal and a slightly larger group. The real death of the movement only came about fifteen years ago, though. Owned were some of the strongest supporters of the Dark Lord. This convinced the few people who were still fighting for them that they weren't really worth bothering with, anyway."

"Owned supported Voldemort?" Harry asked. Somehow, the picture didn't fit. Harry always thought of Voldemort as the oppressor of all people who were weaker or "lower" than himself. "Why?"

"Again, a variety of reasons, the biggest being that most Owners supported the Dark Lord and most Owned think what they are taught to think. Owned are also very pureblooded, in fact, often more pureblooded than the families that Own them. Most of them have never even seen a muggleborn, so the instances of mixing are very rare indeed. The Dark Lord did promise power to purebloods. He wanted to put wizarding society and eventually all society under the power of a few elite families – and Owned would have comprised these families' closest, most trusted servants."

"How the heck do you know all this?"

"I have a basic grasp of Fourth Year level history."

"No, no. How do you know so much about my family?"

"Oh, that. Owned education is different from your education in several ways. In history lessons, Owned children are mostly taught about the doings of about twenty or thirty of upper class families. The Potters are one of them."

"But you didn't go to Owned school."

"But I wanted to keep up with what my peers were doing."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling a bit dumb.

"I trust that you're coming to terms with that rather … sudden … revelation about your godfather."

"I suppose so."

"So there will be no need for self harm?"

"No," Harry answered, irritably because he had, at that moment, been wondering if he needed it.

"Have you made up with Caydon?" Snape asked, abruptly.

"How did you know that I was fighting with Caydon?"

"I know all. I suggest that you apologize to him immediately."

"He should apologize to me. I hate tattle-tales."

Snape looked at Harry coldly. "He was concerned about you. He was crying when he told me. I certainly don't think you are worth all that grief."

"He was crying?" Harry asked.

Snape nodded.

"Well … maybe he thought it was the best thing to do. I suppose that I'll say something. I just have trouble understanding him sometimes, he is so …"

"Precocious?"

"Yes. I guess so."

Harry did speak to Caydon, later that evening.

"I think that maybe you were right about that book after all," he said offhandedly.

"I'm glad that you think so," Caydon replied, a little stiffly. "It's a very bad book."

"I guess that I just wasn't thinking."

"I guess so," Caydon replied and Harry thought that he was still a little angry with him.

"I do respect you, you know. Even though you are younger and so small."

Caydon gave a wistful little sigh. "I wish that I could be tall," he said, sounding very young, "like Papa."

Harry hid a smile. He would hardly call Snape "tall", though he had thought of Snape as tall and imposing when he was younger, come to think of it. Snape was on the short side of average, at best.

"Why do you suppose that I'm so short for my age? It must be nice to be tall like you?" Caydon went on.

Harry thought that Caydon had very misplaced notions of what tall meant. "I'm not tall," he said. "I used to be one of the very shortest in my class, but then I had a growth spurt at the beginning of my fifth year."

"Do you think I'll have a growth spurt?" Caydon asked hopefully.

Harry very much doubted this, considering the heights of Caydon's parents, but he smiled at Caydon a bit. "Maybe," he said.

"Oh, Caydon," Braedon said, entering their room where Harry and Caydon had been talking. "Face it. You're just short. Some people just are."

"Draco Malfoy, for example," Harry began, giving Braedon a sidelong look, "is constantly glaring at me because I've grown taller than him. Bitterness is so unattractive." Harry was feeling very smug about having made a point when he realized that he might have just given away a clue to his true identity – something that he, unfortunately, didn't trust Braedon with.

Braedon however, didn't seem to notice. "You said that to purposefully needle me!" he exclaimed.

"Please don't fight," Caydon interjected. Harry had learned that Caydon hated hearing other people's arguments. "Bryon, don't say bad things about Draco. Braedon, you shouldn't be so sarcastic if you don't expect people do be sarcastic back."

"Thank you, Mother," Braedon sniffed, but he said no more about it. Harry bristled, but he supposed that if Caydon, who had been so badly abused by Malfoy, could keep from bad-mouthing the Slytherin git, then so could he.

That night, Harry took out a razor that he had acquired and studied it. He sighed and pushed it under his pillow, getting up to go and see if Snape was downstairs. He figured that he should try to get his mind off of cutting.

Snape was sitting in his usual spot, but before Harry had a chance to say much to him, Sophia came into the room. Harry was not surprised by this; he had figured out that, unlike her brothers, Sophia rarely slept soundly through the night and she often came downstairs, interrupting their conversations. He was surprised, however, to see that the little girl was crying.

She ran to Snape and hugged his waist. He detached her almost immediately. "What's wrong with you, Sophia?" he asked.

"Papa … Papa, I had a bad dream," she cried.

"A bad dream," Snape said very intently, "what was it about?"

"I dreamed that Caydon died," she sniffled, trying to wipe her tears away.

Snape turned very pale and sat up straight looking away from the girl. Harry thought that it was a horrible dream, but he didn't understand why Snape looked so distressed. Then it hit him – Sophia was prescient, a seer.

"We must go talk to your mother," Snape said in a controlled voice. He stood up and took Sophia by the hand. "Stay here Bryon," he said, giving Harry a look of warning. Harry anxiously watched Snape take his daughter upstairs.