Disclaimer: Still not mine! Unfortunately. :(

Next chapter for you! (This still isn't my writing.) Enjoy!

Chapter 2

The orphanage was lacking in young children. Most of the children were at least seven years old, old enough to be out with the 'big-kids'. Those who were six years old and younger stayed in a separate wing, which is where Harry lived. There were no more than twenty of these children, and they all slept in the same, long room. It was a bit crowded, but it wasn't bad.

Harry lay on his bed, covered by his favorite blanket, and grasping his favorite toy. The blanket had prancing stags and their does, and was set on a green background. The toy was a stuffed doe, with soft green eyes. Occasionally the matrons took the children out on small field trips, and allowed them to buy one thing. The doe was older; he had found it during his first time out. The blanket, however, was a discovery from the last week. Both items had drawn him to them. He didn't know why, but both felt extremely important.

He could hear the soft breaths of the other children as they slept, and figured that he was probably the only one awake. He was thinking hard about the day he had, and especially about the stranger who had come to visit him. He had been so tall! But the way he had looked at Harry had made Harry feel…well; he wasn't sure what he felt. The man had not seemed mean, at least not when he was looking at Harry.

The man and Marie had talked about something called sign language. Harry didn't know what it was, but he thought that maybe it would help him talk. The man had said he might come back and teach Harry it, hadn't he? Harry hoped he really did come back. He didn't know why…he didn't even know the man's name! But he wanted him to come back, badly. And it was with this thought in his head that he fell asleep that night, and for the first time in a long while he did not have that bad dream with the green light.

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Snape didn't want to go back to the orphanage. At least, that's what he kept telling himself. In all honesty, his mind seemed to crave seeing those bright green eyes again. Lily's eyes, Lily's eyes. Damn that boy and his genes. Why couldn't they have been Potter's eyes? It would have been so easy to forget the boy then. He wouldn't have worried about sign language or the boy communicating. But he had already agreed to return to the orphanage, and he wouldn't go back on his word.

And so he found himself once again in front of the building; this time, his arm curled over a group of books, all about Sign Language. He knew it well enough, but he figured that if he was teaching Potter, Harry, he might as well brush up on it as well.

Marie was waiting inside, and she gave Snape a small smile when he walked in. "Professor." She said, holding out a hand. Snape took it, and gave it a small shake, before dropping it. She wasted no time in judgments this time, and instead took him directly to the same room he had been in before. This time, Harry was already in there, playing with a stuffed doe. Snape had to force himself to keep walking at the sight. Even as such a young child, Harry seemed to be attracted to those things that represented his parents.

"I'll just leave you two alone then, shall I?" Marie said, already at the door. Snape glanced at her in surprise; yesterday she had clung desperately to the child, as if she was afraid Snape might bite his head off. But he wasn't about to argue; she was a bit annoying, actually. So instead he just gave her a nod of his head, and she left the room.

Harry had stopped playing with his toy, and was now staring up at Snape, his green eyes wide. Snape took a spot on the ground, seeing as there were no chairs in the room, and stared right back. And this is how they spent their next two or so minutes, having a sort of staring match. Finally Harry blinked, and tilted his head, as though inquiring.

"You cannot speak at all?" Snape asked, just to make sure. The boy shook his head, and drew his knees up to his chin, as though nervous. "Well, we are going to remedy that. First though, I should tell you my name. I am Pr…Severus Snape. You may call me Severus." A child wouldn't really understand the concept of a professor, would they?

Severus. Harry mulled the name around in his head, and wished he could test it on his tongue. He even tried, he mouthed the name, trying to force words through his throat, but they didn't come. He frowned, and laid his head on his knees.

"Now, seeing as that you're three years old, I highly doubt you know what sign language is, so let me elaborate. Sign Language is a way of talking with your hands, by making signs." Snape curled his fingers flat against his palm, leaving his thumb out. "This is the letter A. I doubt you know your alphabet very well, so we will be starting with that."

When Harry gave the man a very confused look, Snape sighed. How on earth was he supposed to do this? He was used to teaching pre-teens and then teenagers, not three year olds. Perhaps the orphanage was right, Harry was much too young to learn such a thing. But…no, that couldn't be it. The boy had to learn to communicate, and this was just another way to do that. Snape would have to be more patient.

"Letters…are things that you spell with. They create words. Words…well, 'cat' is a word, and it's spelled with the letters C, A, and T. Do you understand?" Snape tried again, speaking more slowly. When Harry nodded, Snape let out a slight breath. So the boy wasn't completely ignorant, actually, for a three-year old he seemed to catch on rather fast.

"Good. Now, most people can speak words at your age. But you're an exception to the case. You're something we call mute, Harry, and it means that you cannot speak. However, you can still use sign language, which I've said before. You will need to be able to talk in some way, and this seems to be the only solution." Snape sighed at the boy's inquiring look. "The only…way to make you speak. A solution is an answer to a problem." He elaborated, and the boy nodded.

"Now I'm going to show you some letters, and I want you to repeat the sign to me." Snape said, before holding up one hand. He curled his four fingers around to lie flat against his palm, and kept his thumb pointing out. "This is the letter A." He said. "Now, show me the letter A."

Little Harry put up his tiny fist, and placed his fingers accordingly. They were hardly perfect, and so Snape leaned forward and tweaked them. The touch sent a shock through him, and he quickly leaned back away. "There. That is the letter A. Now, let's move on. This is the letter B…"

And it continued from there. The two stayed in the room for a good hour together, Snape showing the young boy a letter, which he would then repeat. Harry's ability to grasp the knowledge was more than one would expect from the three-year old, and Snape couldn't help but smirk. This was definitely Lily's blood at work.

The two ended their lesson with Snape reading a small bit from his book on Sign Language to Harry. The young boy watched Snape with a rapt attention, as if he was hanging onto Snape's every word. Although the Professor would never admit it, he rather enjoyed it, this attention from Lily's son.

When finally the man stood to leave, he had to look away from Harry, who was staring at him almost…sadly. The little boy tugged on Snape's long sleeve, and kept pointing at himself, as if asking something. Snape frowned. He could easily see what it was Harry wanted so badly through Legilimency, if he so wished. But part of him didn't want to know, part of him suspected; and the other part hid behind the excuse that it would be good for the boy to wait until he could actually speak.

But Snape did lean down to Harry's level, and looked the boy right in his startling green eyes. "Ask me again when you can speak with your hands, Harry," he said softly, and the boy nodded. Snape dashed the growing smile, and nodded, before getting once again to his feet.

"Very well, Harry. I will see you again tomorrow, and then the day after that, until you have learned to use sign language." And with that, Snape spared the boy one last nod, and then swept from the room, his books tucked under his arm.

Harry watched him go, and vaguely registered Marie entering the room and taking him by the arm. He liked Severus. The man was kind, and really seemed to want him to learn. But he felt so confused. He knew that Marie had brought the man to teach him to talk, but was that all? Had she finally given up on getting him adopted, finally decided that he wasn't worth it, that no one was ever going to want him? But maybe, just maybe if he was nice to Severus, and listened to the man, maybe he would decide to adopt him.

Severus leaned heavily against his mentor's room, and knocked on the door. When the soft 'enter' sounded, he pushed the door open. Dumbledore was sitting there, looking expectant. That damned twinkle was still in his eye, suggesting that there was going to be a long talk following this.

"Severus! It's good to see you, how was your session with young Harry?" There was so much in that one sentence, much unsaid. Many questions that needed answers Snape wasn't willing to give.

"It went well, Headmaster. He caught on quickly, although I am sure we have a long way to go. He is a mere three, after all." Snape replied, his voice stiff. Dumbledore nodded, and leaned forward a little.

"It's good to hear. How is he? Does he seem happy, healthy? You said before that he did, I remember, but is he still?" The older man asked.

"Headmaster, it's hardly been a day since I last saw him. He was as healthy and apparently as happy as ever. He was playing with a stuffed…doe…when I arrived." Snape said, and the instant he did he regretted it. He should not have mentioned the toy, no, that was likely a very bad idea. Sure Enough…

"That must have given you quite a jolt." Dumbledore observed quietly, glancing over his half-moon spectacles. Snape felt his finger at his lips, tracing them softly.

"Quite." He replied shortly. Dumbledore nodded, and leaned back in his chair, his eyes soft as he observed Snape.

"Take some time to bond with the boy, Severus." Dumbledore started, his voice gentle. "You may find that he is more like Lily then you expect. At least give him a chance." He continued.

"I don't believe I have much choice in the matter, do I Headmaster? I have to teach the boy, after all." He said, sneering.

"I do believe you offered, my boy. And, as it were, teaching is not quite the same thing as bonding. Do try to actually talk to him about something other than sign language. Now, I do believe that is enough pestering. I am sure you are tired." Dumbledore answered, coming around his desk to place a hand on Snape's shoulder.

"Indeed." Snape replied, getting to his feet and removing himself from Dumbledore's touch. "Good day, Headmaster." He finished, before leaving the room, slightly disturbed. He dared not turn around, not wanting to see that infernal glitter of Dumbledore's eyes. As if the man knew everything.

Summer break was the best part of the year. When Snape could be left alone, and didn't have to deal with those idiotic students who just didn't understand the pleasurable art of potions. None of the consistent chattering that just never seemed to cease. Ah, yes, how he hated, absolutely loathed his job. But he had two reasons for continuing.

The biggest being his debt to Dumbledore, obviously. It had been part of their pact, and Snape, as stated before, was not one to go back on his word. The other reason was a bit more personal. He hoped that someday some student would come who was a natural at potions, as he had been. A student that he could actually tutor in the finest of arts. It was a wish unlikely to ever come true, but a man could hope, couldn't he?

Perhaps that was the real reason behind his odd…desire to teach Potter. Maybe it wasn't because of Lily at all, but rather because finally, here, was someone he could tutor. True, it wasn't exactly the same; sign language was far from Potions. Still, it was something. Yes, that must be it. It wasn't the draw of Lily's eyes, no, never that.

But it was! His mind inserted forcefully, if it had a voice it would likely be screaming. He snarled lightly under his breath, his hand clamping tight around the black quill he was holding. A bit of ink splattered onto the paper below, and reluctantly he gave up on it. He obviously wasn't in the right state of mind to be focusing on anything, not even this important potion paper he was supposed to be working on.

Damn that blasted boy. The Boy-Who-Lived, the boy who he was supposed to hate, the boy who was supposed to be exactly like that arrogant James Potter! He wasn't supposed to be like Lily, who would never have hurt a fly, unless of course it was somehow dangerous to her family. He wasn't supposed to give him the same looks that Lily would give him, that look full of trust and hope. But that's exactly who he was like, and there was no denying it.

Snape groaned, and buried his face in his hands, something that he only felt comfortable doing when he was alone. All he had to do was teach Potter sign language, and then that would be that. He wouldn't have to deal with him until the boy reached eleven, and he could build up that same old idea of hatred by then, right? If he could just get past this hurtle, things would work out for the best, and he could stop thinking of Potter as Lily's son.

But by Merlin, this boy would be the death of him!

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"So, my Little Harry, did you have a good time with mister Snape?" Marie asked as she leaned over, tucking the small boy in. Harry grinned up at her, and nodded his head eagerly. His little hands flashed out, and slowly but surely he made the sign for A, crossing his fingers over his palm. Marie smiled, and shook out his hair, while simultaneously removing the boy's tiny glasses.

"Oh, that's very good, Harry. You must be learning fast." She cooed. The boy's face lit up, and he convulsed slightly. For a minute it terrified Marie, until she realized that the boy was laughing. She giggled in response, and tucked the deer blanket tighter around his chin. "Good night, Harry dear. You must be well rested for your time with Severus tomorrow, after all."

At her words Harry's eyes widened slightly, and he nodded. Then he turned his face away, and his eyes snapped shut. Marie chuckled again, before leaving the room full of small sleeping boys.

Harry was once again waiting for Snape as the man entered the small room where they held their sessions. When the man actually entered, Harry's head snapped up, and to Snape's slight horror, a wide smile spread across the boy's face. Snape shook his head fiercely, and took a seat on the floor, across from Harry.

Severus! Harry tried to say, and although the thought ran clear in his head, it didn't come out as words. The small boy sighed, but his grin didn't fade. Someday soon, with Severus' help, he'd be able to talk! That's why the older man was here, right?

They dove into the lesson immediately. Harry noticed that his tutor seemed oddly distracted. He didn't know the man well yet, of course, but even he could see that Severus seemed less intense then he had been the day before. Yesterday he had been staring into Harry's eyes, and had drilled him continuously with information. Harry had liked that, but this was okay too.

At least, it was until Severus got angry. Harry was having trouble with a particular hand gesture, the sign for Wisdom, which essentially consisted of bending down all fingers except for the index, which had to be bent just so. After a few 'No, like this', Severus finally reached forward and grabbed Harry's hand roughly.

"Are you so incompetent that you can't even manage such a simple gesture, Potter? Like, This!" The man snarled, and Harry sat frozen, green eyes fixed on the clasped hands. He was trying really hard just to do it right, and he thought he was pretty close! But Severus was still mad at him. He was a nice man, but sometimes he got frustrated when Harry couldn't do something right. But he had never yelled before!

Harry bit at his lip, and pulled his hand from the man's. He slowly signed 'sorry' something that he had learned earlier in the lesson. He looked at his shoes determinedly, waiting for the next instructions. But, instead, he heard the older man sigh. When Harry dared to look up, he saw that a pale hand was running through greasy hair, and then it came back around to rest against the man's face, as if he was holding his head up.

"No, it is I who should be sorry. I understand that you are trying your best, and it is very good for a three year old. I am afraid that this must be all for today, it has not been the best for me, you see." Snape muttered from behind his head. Of all the idiotic things to do, taking out his frustration at himself out on a young boy. No, it was best not to continue this for now. Perhaps he would go home and organize his thoughts into a Pensieve. Yes, that would work. And then, hopefully, he would understand himself better. Understand this odd confusion that was a mix between not wanting to teach the boy, and yet wanted to. Why couldn't it just be as simple as hating him, as it had been before?

Snape started when he felt a sudden weight against his chest, and when he removed his hand from his face; he saw that the small boy had crawled into his lap. Harry's tiny hand was lying on his long dark sleeve, and the boy was staring up into his face. Staring at him with Lily's eyes. Snape felt his heart catch then, and suddenly it was all very, very clear. There was no need to be confused, there was no doubt whose son this really was.

After all, only Lily had ever had compassion for him, the proclaimed 'greasy git' of the schoolyard. Only Lily could ever have those eyes, and only Lily could use them in such a way that would make even the Dark Lord's heart melt. Ah, assuming he had one, of course.

Gently, Snape removed the boy from his lap, and with reluctance reached out and scoffed the boy's hair. "I am not angry at you, Harry. You've done very well, as I've said. I promise I will return tomorrow, but I must leave for now." He brought his voice down to a softer level, and this time it seemed the boy listened to him. But he had one more thing to say, or motion, anyways.

Harry reached out and plucked up the picture-based book Snape had brought with him. The boy pulled it to him, and hugged it to his chest, and then looked up at Snape pleadingly. The older man couldn't help but chuckle.

"Do you even know how to read?" Snape asked. The boy stared at him, and then shook his head. But he didn't let go of the book, but instead pulled it tighter, his eyes never leaving Snape. The latter sighed slightly, but gave the boy a rare smile.

"Oh very well, if you insist. You may keep the book with you. But I expect it to be in good condition when we meet tomorrow, yes? Bring it with you. If you can show me that you can take responsibility for it, you may keep it. Sound good to you?" Snape raised an eyebrow at the boy's enthusiastic nod. His smile turning into a slight smirk, Snape got to his feet.

"Until tomorrow then." Snape said, but the small boy wasn't listening. He was already tucked into a corner with the book on his lap. Shaking his head slightly, Severus Snape left the room.

Again, I did not write this. Hope you liked it!