Hey there guy's!! Sorry about being longer than normal, but I've been shifting around for the past week and a bit, so my normal routine sort of went out the window.

Well, it's nice to see that so many of you want to see Fred and George be the Devil incarnate towards Ron! He certainly deserves it. I'm happy that I got the Twins in character to an extent as well. I was worried they mightn't have accepted Harry's story so quickly in canon.

For those of you who wanted more info on Jessica and Elizabeth … sorry, nothing too deep here. A tidbit maybe, but nothing hugely revealing.

Anyway, please review and tell me what you think, what needs improvement, and any possible suggestions on where to head next? Here's the Chapter!!

Chapter Twenty Five: A Step Backwards

Harry and Hermione wondered around the Alley after breaking from the twins, and collected the rest of their Hogwarts gear (Harry still replacing things), before Harry told Hermione that he had to visit Gringott's again.

"What for?" she asked, hurrying up the steps in an effort to match Harry's longer strides. "We were here not that long ago?"

"I forgot to do something," was all Harry said, walking through the doors and weaving between the larger volume of patrons that was there on their first visit.

Harry walked up to the closest Goblin and cleared his throat, not flinching in his gaze when the creature stared stonily up at him, seeming agitated about being disturbed from his paperwork.

"May I help you, Sir?" it asked with oily cordiality.

"You may," Harry answered frostily, matching the Goblin's cool air. "I require a Currency Conversion to Muggle Pound-Sterling. I would like to know the current exchange rate, please?"

The Goblin raised a bushy eyebrow, but still clicked his fingers, summoning a piece of parchment from nowhere. He took a moment to peruse it, before looking back up at Harry and answering, "The current rate of exchange for one Galleon, is five Muggle Pounds, Sir. It seems with the rise of the Dark Lord, Trade has slowed, hence the lower rate. It's simply not worth what it used to be. I remember a time when a Galleon could get you twenty Pounds … but that was some time ago…"

"Ah … I was wondering why I got more than I normally would have," Hermione spoke up, seemingly understanding what the Goblin had just said. "This year I got eighty Galleons, when last year I only got forty. Wow … That is a bit of a drop…"

"Indeed," the Goblin scowled. "How much did you wish to Exchange, Sir?"

Harry took out his money bag, counted out twenty Galleons, slipped them into his pocket, then handed what was left over to the Goblin, who raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Whatever's left in there," Harry declared firmly, grinning rather strangely.

The Goblin nodded, while Hermione looked at Harry in confusion. What on earth would Harry need Muggle money for? And why so much? They hadn't planned on going into Muggle London today…

A few minutes later, the two walked from the White Bank, on their way to the Leaky Cauldron for the meeting with Jessica; Harry shoving the approximate half-grand into his money bag, then fixing it securely to his jeans.

As it was nearing the mid-morning/Lunch timeframe, the small Pub and Hotel was much more crowded than it was when they'd first arrived. Harry found that he was given somewhat of a wider birth than anyone else in there, he figured solely due to the fact that he was noticeably larger than most of the others, yet Hermione was being jostled hell west and crooked; mostly a direct result of being of such a slight stature.

Harry wondered briefly wether it was because he unconsciously projected, I'm really powerful, Bugger off! Or if it was in most everyone else's own subconscious to let him alone. It was strange. Harry was sure that those with the most skittish nature around him, were one's he suspected weren't completely Human. He knew that Non humans attended the Leaky Cauldron, and strangely, Harry could almost feel their presence. It was the same way he could tell Remus was a Werewolf. There was just something about some of the patrons that screamed out to him, "Non Human."

As it was, he could tell that there was at least three Hags in the room, four Werewolves including Remus, two Vampires (Of which he could tell were extraordinarily Old, solely due to the fact they were hear during daylight), one Enhanced Animagus (his father, as he was no longer completely human), and some others he couldn't quite discern, almost as though they could hide their signature.

"Callen! Over here!"

Harry looked around, trying to ignore the sudden influx of information, and spotted Remus waving him and Hermione over to their little secluded corner, where Severus, Jessica and Elizabeth were already seated; Elizabeth's First Year supplies sitting next to her.

"Where did you wander off to, Callen?" Severus asked rather gruffly, motioning for the two of them to take a seat. Harry obeyed, taking the seat next to Elizabeth at the end of the table. He smiled nervously down at her, then looked back up just as Hermione sat next to Remus, opposite himself. Jessica was right in the corner, while Sev was sitting by Elizabeth, opposite Jess. "Last I knew, you two were going to Madame Malkin's, but after that you decided to vanish?"

"We were finishing up some business at Gringott's," Harry answered, trying not to make his father any more irate than he already was. "After we'd finished getting everything else we needed on our lists, that is. I was kind of wanting to go into Muggle London and get a replacement wardrobe – "

"Why would you want to do that?" Severus shot him a most suspicious look, one that Harry didn't appreciate in the slightest. "You could just Transfigure your clothing, just like the ones you're wearing?"

Harry drew his eyebrows together, feeling a mild annoyance toward his father, but didn't quite know why. "Because I want to have some clothing of my own, Severus," he retorted calmly.

"Sorry to interrupt," Remus spoke up a touch timidly, "but could you possibly have this conversation some other time? I believe there was a different reason for this gathering today…?"

Harry looked down at the table, inwardly fuming at Severus's attempt to put the parental foot down, while the Slytherin in question nodded curtly at Remus, agreeing reluctantly, and redirecting his attention to Jessica, who had watched the little exchange silently.

"How about some introductions first?" Remus suggested into the uncomfortable silence that had descended onto the table. "Jessica and Elizabeth," he pointed out the specified individual, "this is Hermione Granger," Hermione smiled in greeting, "and Callen Sn– "

"– Emrys!" Severus cut in sharply, glaring at Remus pointedly. "His name is Callen Emrys, Remus … remember?"

Remus looked a little puzzled and shot a look at Harry, who was staring at the table seemingly oblivious to the conversation, before turning back to Snape, nodding, "Of course. My mistake."

Harry though, had tuned out everything that was spoken, as soon as his father had stopped Remus from introducing him as a Snape. Was there something Severus didn't want this lady to know? Or was it that he was starting to have second thoughts about taking him as his son? Harry didn't understand and was feeling a little despondent, wondering if he'd done anything wrong to upset him. Surely a little wandering around Diagon Alley wouldn't equate for such reaction? And what was wrong with venturing into Muggle London? Severus of all people should understand the desire Harry had for belongings of his own…

Harry shook his head, trying to pay attention to what Jessica was now saying, while simultaneously ignoring the stimuli invading his mind from the other patrons of the Pub. On top of that, Harry was endeavouring to remove the negative feelings he was feeling in relation to his father … but those one's were much harder to ignore. He could hear a jumble of words mixed with flashes of colour in his peripheral vision, each with its own information buried within it. It was giving him a headache, and Hermione was staring at him, obviously noticing that something was off.

The air was stifling, the temperature seemed much higher than what it was when he arrived. Harry felt his breathing reflexively quicken in panic. Everything was smothering! He saw Hermione say something, but the rushing in his ears drowned out all sounds. Harry knew it was purely subconscious, but his brain demanded air. To get out into the open. He was boxed in! He couldn't move!

"Worthless Freak! I'll teach you to burn my breakfast!"

Pain and grogginess followed immediately, before he was clouded in blackness, unable to move in the smothering, small closet.

A myriad of colour flashed in Harry's eyes, interrupting the images from his past only for an instant, before he felt something wrap around him…

He knelt on the ground, blinking a stickiness from his eyes, but a stocky arm wrapped around his middle from behind, lifting him roughly, before hurling him backwards, slamming him into the steel behind him.

"You murdering scum! I don't know why I even bother keeping you in this house! Who'd want anything to do with you?! Everyone you get anywhere near ends up dieing! First it was your worthless parents, then one of your school pals … now, not even your precious Godfather will have anything to do with you! Oh, that's right … he can't … you got him killed … Freak …"

An insane panic consumed Harry's mind, desperately to break free of the iron arms holding him down. With a strangled cry, Harry lashed out blindly, feeling his elbow collide with something solid, a pain filled grunt answered, followed by the restriction around his middle slackening, allowing Harry to break free and do what his instincts were screaming at him to do, especially when oneself felt in peril.

Run.

***

"Remus what the hell just happened?!"

Hermione felt fit to be tied, ignoring the incredulous glares being shot at her from the nosier members of the pub, and the alarmed faces of Jessica and Elizabeth, who were both staring where Harry and Severus had been seated not ten seconds ago.

Hermione could see that something was bothering Harry before he'd started to behave like a trapped creature, and she had an inkling as to what it was, but at present, she was only concerned for her friend.

Remus was apparently as bewildered as she was, for he shook his head in dismay.

"I haven't the faintest idea, Hermione," he answered, the concern he was also feeling showing in his hazel eyes. "I've never seen Harry act like that before…"

"He was scared," a tiny, yet firm voice spoke up.

Hermione and Remus turned towards the source, and saw little Elizabeth staring evenly back at them.

"Of what?" Remus asked softly, though appearing sincere. "How do you know?"

"Lizzy, not here," Jessica spoke sharply, cutting her daughter off before she could answer. Hermione glared at the older woman, silently demanding that she shut up and let Liz speak … but then she saw that Jessica was looking at the other patrons, obviously fearful that anyone should overhear what the girl wished to say.

Hermione bristled, and for once, she felt selfish in that she didn't care about what this woman was scared of. She wanted to know what had happened to Harry!

"Bullocks!" she hissed, leaning towards a surprised Jessica. "It's as simple as putting up a damn silencing charm! I want to know what happened with my friend!"

"Hermione, calm down," said Remus, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "If she doesn't want to say here, then we can't force her." Remus steered her to sit in the seat Harry had occupied earlier. "Callen will be fine. Severus will take care of him…"

***

Severus half ran in the direction he'd seen Harry run off in, after picking himself up off the ground and regain his equilibrium. He might have been given inhuman hardiness and strength, but even that glancing blow from Harry had been enough for him to see stars, letting the boy get free of his arms after apperating them both from the Leaky Cauldron, to the outskirts of Hogsmeade.

He remembered that, not long after Jessica had started to tell him where she'd been for the last twelve years, Harry had started to behave very erratically. At first he seemed upset about something, but then he saw the boy grow skittish, even fearful of his surroundings. Severus had only ever seen similar behaviour a few times before in humans … none of which he wanted to bring to mind again.

It had been during Voldemort's last reign of terror, and He would capture Muggles, cage them, and use them for the groups entertainment. Severus had tried for years to forget the looks in the Muggles eyes, as they were displayed to the Death Eaters … but it had been brought to the surface again, as the same fear of a caged animal was clearly visible in the emerald eyes of his son.

But what had brought it on? The dining area of the Leaky Cauldron was reasonably open, yet Cal had behaved like someone that had Claustrophobia? Did he suffer from it, but not tell anyone? And if he was, what had been the cause behind it? Surely the week he'd spent in the Dursley's back shed hadn't been the reason, had it?

Whatever the cause, Severus knew it had started at that Muggle home of his, and the rage he felt towards them spurred him to run even faster after his son. Looking ahead, Sev felt his chest constrict as he saw Harry disappear into the trees of the Forbidden Forest, at least one hundred meters ahead of him. Merlin that boy can run!

Even with his magical stamina, Severus could feel the effects of running so long at full tilt. His legs were burning with the effort and his lungs felt as they were on fire … something Harry didn't have to worry about, as he didn't even need to breathe. That boy could run at that speed forever if he needed to.

Breaking through the tree line, Severus ran as fast as he was able, dodging and weaving through the underbrush haphazardly. His eyes darted around him, trying to find any sign as to which direction Harry had fled in … but the gloom of the Forest was too dense, and obviously, Harry – whether out of instinct or intent – was already able to move without a trace; not one twig was out of place, nor a branch swaying. Severus slowed his gait, realizing that he would never find his son under the current circumstances and method. He stilled his legs, feeling the unpractised muscles quake from the exertion, his chest heaving as his lungs screamed for oxygen.

The Forest was silent, save for Sev's laboured breathing, and the rustling of leaves at his feet as he moved around, preventing his legs from cramping up. What was he going to do now? Would he go back to the Leaky Cauldron to tell the rest of his party about Harry's situation? Or should he inform Dumbledore of the problem and leave the important decisions up to him? Though, even as these options made themselves present, there was an underlying desire to just turn back around and keep running after his son, no matter what. This confused Severus quite soundly, as he leant against a tree, his head tilted back against the trunk. Why would he continue to pursue someone that would have no problem looking after himself, even in his disillusioned state of mind?

"Because you're worried about him," a small voice in the back of Sev's mind spoke up. "He's your son, and even though you don't show it, you care about what happens to him … past, present and future."

Severus let out a chuckle, though it was devoid of any humour. "I can't believe I wouldn't've thought twice about that boy not two weeks ago…" He shook his head and rubbed his eyes tiredly, saying self patronizingly, "What the hell is happening with me…?"

Going against his deeper urges, Severus managed to turn himself away from his sons heading, and sprint back toward the Castle, knowing that Dumbledore would most likely know how to handle the problem…

****

A pair of brilliant green eyes, now calm, yet swirling with sadness, followed the Slytherins departure, until he vanished into the Forests gloom. As soon as Harry heard his father question his mental condition in reference to him, he'd felt something inside him break. First Ron abandons him, and now, his own father was having second thoughts about taking him as his son. Would everyone desert him in the end, even if they seemed to accept what he was for now?

Who said they accept you now? Maybe they've just been taking pity on you and pretend to like you?

Harry closed his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the little voice in the back of his mind. He hated that voice. It continuously spouted degrading and doubtful comments about his life, always second guessing any kind gesture or any affection. After all, there had to be some other reason behind people being nice to someone like him, wouldn't there?

It was at times like these that Harry loathed his Uncle the most. He knew, in some part of his mind, that what Vernon had ground into him about his worthlessness wasn't true … but after so many years of his verbal slurs, it was almost impossible for him to believe otherwise. It was worse now than it ever had been, as now he had the physical marks of not agreeing with the lug. Ever since he could remember, he'd always been told what a burden he was, how no one would want him, how he would never amount to anything, how he was a freak. Turned out that Vernon was right all along, didn't it. He was a freak, even in the Wizarding world; no one wanted him around, fearing his connection with Voldemort; and his only achievements in his life were getting a madman after his head, and killing off everyone that got anywhere near him.

Harry bit his lip, shaking his head violently in order to clear it.

Some glamorous life for the Rich and Famous…